


About Us

by starlightment



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightment/pseuds/starlightment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The DigiDestined gang gear up to face their toughest challenge yet: college. [AU. Sorato. Takari. Michi. Other pairings to be revealed!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Welcome! I'm starlightment, but you can call me Star, and I'll be your author for this Digimon fanfic! :) I won't bore you with a long-winded explanation of how this story came to be, but the short end of it is that I have an obsession with Digimon and AU fanfiction. Therefore, I give you "About Us"! It's a multi-chapter Digimon AU that chronicles the Chosen Children's lives as they navigate through their college years. Relationships, newfound adulthood, drama, laughter, friendship... Everything that makes up a good coming-of-age tale! So, without further ado... 

 **About Us**  
A Digimon Fanfiction

* * *

 

**January 8th, 2016**

_“Hi, you’ve reached Sora. Sorry I can’t take your call right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!”_

BEEP.

_“Hi, you’ve reached Sora. Sorry I can’t take your call right now, but leave a message and I’ll —“_

BEEP.

_“Hi, you’ve reached Sora. Sorry I can’t —“_

BEEP.

_“Hi, you —“_

BEEP.

“Hey… Sora. It’s me. Uh… I tried calling yesterday, but I got your voicemail. Again. I also tried calling on Wednesday. And Tuesday. And Monday. But I guess you’ve been pretty busy this week. Or you’re just ignoring my calls, which makes more sense, but… I dunno. I just… I miss you.

“ _God_ , I didn’t mean for that to sound so pathetic and creepy. Just… scratch that last part. Or something.

“You know what? Just scratch this entire message. It’s getting late and you’re probably sick of my calls by now. I’ll just… hang up now…

“Wait… _Dammit_. No. I miss you, Sora. What even happened to us? How’d we get here? Everything was fine and then it just… wasn’t. I know I made mistakes, but you know what? So did you. We always used to be able to fix our mistakes together. Remember that? A couple. A _team_. But I guess we’ve been forgetting a lot of things lately, right? I just want you to know that… I’m not over it. I’m not over _you_ , Sora. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I wanna go back to the way we were. The old us. The _good_ us. The us that doesn’t keep secrets and give up on each other. I just want you to let me love you again.

“… Uh, anyway. Sorry about… _that_. I’d actually be surprised if you’re still listening to this message. But if you are… The reason I called tonight is because I’m outside. Outside your apartment, I mean. Yeah. I drove here. I probably should’ve given you a heads up. Or at least waited until morning. But I guess I haven’t been thinking straight lately.

“So I don’t wanna put on any pressure or anything, but it’s pretty cold out here… Freezing, actually. I forgot my coat at home, which would really come in handy right about now, but… You probably don’t care, do you? Right. Why would you? It’s not like you were expecting _me_ tonight.

“Sora… I know you’re awake. I can see the light on in your room from outside your window. At least I _think_ that’s your window. If not, then I’ve been stalking Mimi for an hour now.

“If you’re still listening to this, then… I guess, in my mind, I imagined you letting me stay the night. I could sleep on the couch if it makes you feel better. The floor, even. Or I could just pitch a tent and freeze to death out here. Your choice.

“… I’m out here, Sora. I’m out here waiting in the cold and I love you. I’ll wait all weekend if I have to…

“… Because I’m not going anywhere.” 

* * *

**August 1st, 2015**

Unbelievable. Simply un- _freaking_ -believable.

Mimi drummed her impeccably polished nails against the tabletop with disdain as she watched yet another group of air-headed students walk right by her beautifully decorated display without so much as a passing glance. With narrowed eyes, she grabbed the blank clipboard in front of her and leapt to her feet. She did _not_ spend twenty-five dollars on poster board and FabuDazzle glitter glue just to be ignored all afternoon.

“ _Ahem_! Attention, fellow students!” Mimi called out in her grandest theatrical voice, causing quite a few heads to turn, prompting her to add, “Well, only the _talented_ ones.”

There was a silent, but collective groan from her audience.

“Come sign up for Mimi’s Musical Revue Extravaganza! I need dancers, instrument players, and anyone who can carry a tune to perform backup for the show’s star — me!” She waved the clipboard in the air and the sparkly pink pen that goes with it. “Don’t miss out on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform in the school’s _biggest_ musical event of the year —“

It was clear that everyone had already tuned her out as the throngs of students continued to buzz with excitement — at every booth except her own. The student activity fair was officially in full swing, but Mimi’s audition sheet had only garnered sign-ups from a scrawny girl wearing neon leggings and a chemistry club weirdo who desperately needed to pluck his unibrow.

Tossing the miserable excuse for a sign-up sheet back onto the table, Mimi plopped herself down into her chair and pouted. It was completely inconceivable how she hadn’t received even a flicker of interest from anyone who even remotely reached her standards — especially when she was having _such_ a good hair day. In high school, Mimi could’ve snapped her fingers and instantly had the entire student body eagerly lined up before lunch time.

But, as she quickly learned within the first few years, college was _not_ like high school.

Her new instructors didn’t favor her. Her fellow performing arts majors didn’t bow down to her. In high school, the lead roles in all the productions were a given, but Mimi wasn’t used to having real competition from hopeful performers who were equally as ruthless — and talented — as she was. She was a little fish in a big pond now, but secretly craved the safety of high school’s shallow kiddie pool where she wasn’t just another pretty ingenue with a gorgeous voice and Rockette-worthy legs.

And so Mimi took the old adage of ‘ _when life gives you lemons_ ’ to heart. Mimi’s Musical Revue Extravaganza was going to be the sweetest, most delicious lemonade this university had ever tasted — a performance where she was guaranteed to showcase her immense talent. A performance where she could claim the spotlight that was so rightfully hers.

But first she needed people to sign up. A star is only half as good without proper back-up. As her forehead met the tabletop, Mimi began planning her emergency measures. She knew she could count on her fellow sorority sister, Yolei, to handle all the technical responsibilities of the show. She might even be able to coerce her best friend and roommate, Sora, into stage managing. TK, Izzy, Kari, and the others might even pitch in if she begged hard enough, but not only were they — sadly — of similar social caliber to herself, it still left a gaping hole in the ‘leading man’ department. Mimi’s first instinct was to ask Matt, but his band’s rising popularity across campus would surely outshine her unfortunate anonymity. _So_ not happening.

She needed someone with _just_ enough social clout to attract an audience without stealing her thunder. She needed someone handsome. She needed someone popular. She needed someone to come along and catch her before she falls.

“Uh, Mimi?”

However, she _really_ wasn’t expecting her saving grace to come in the form of Tai Kamiya. 

The girl’s head shot up just in time to notice that familiar mop of messy brown hair looming over her table. He looked particularly disheveled in his soccer uniform, an athletic bag hanging off one shoulder, but Mimi’s eyes still lit up like a holiday display.

She may never understand how someone like Tai had managed to climb higher up on the collegiate social ladder than she had. Apparently one of the few similarities between college and high school was that playing for the school’s soccer team was revered as a god-like honor, which clearly explained how Tai had rounded up his supposed popularity, but it did _not_ explain Mimi’s tragic fall-from-grace. Still, her voluminous brunette head quickly started concocting a plan and if that meant playing nice with some hair-brained jocks, then so be it.

“Tai!” Mimi squealed with delight just as a crowd of students walked by. “So glad you stopped by!”

The passersby began to whisper and murmur curiously to one another, but Tai just raised an eyebrow under Mimi’s beaming grin. It was strange, he thought, seeing her out of her natural habitat — strutting down a hallway with a nonfat soy latte in hand as the crowds of underclassmen parted for her like the Red Sea. Given the fact that the pair could hardly make it through an entire conversation without bickering, the last thing Tai had expected was for Mimi Tachikawa to greet him — with a _smile_ , nonetheless. 

Mimi maintained her facade — quite impressively, Tai had to admit — until the crowd of onlookers had passed. Only then was Tai able to detect the tightness behind her seemingly genuine grin.   

“Oh, thank _god_ ,” Mimi groaned, shoving the clipboard into Tai’s hands. “Quick — sign your name and pretend to look interested.”

Tai was dumbfounded by the unexpected request and just stared quizzically at the girl. “Um… hello to you, too?”

“Are you dumb _and_ deaf?” She impatiently tapped the clipboard with a sharply manicured nail. “ _Sign_.”   

“Hold on a sec,” Tai demanded as he dropped the sign-up sheet onto the table, much to Mimi’s aggravation. “I was just walking back from soccer practice. I didn’t come by here just so I could sign up for… _whatever_ it is you’re trying to do. Manipulating the whole school into thinking you’re some kind of queen, probably.”

The jock took a step back to get a good look at the flamboyant and sparkly display in front of him. The upright poster board read proudly, ‘ _Mimi’s Musical Revue Extravaganza!_ ’, and was littered with star stickers and glamorous pictures from the girl’s glory days as their high school’s resident leading lady. All Tai could do was wince.

“That’s cute, but I don’t need to do any manipulating,” Mimi smirked haughtily as she gave her hair a good fluff. “It’s obvious that I’m already royalty.”

“Yeah, a royal pain in everybody’s ass,” Tai retorted. “You know, there’s probably a reason why you have to _force_ people to sign up.”

She huffed an indignant breath at the boy’s apparent scorn, but — in true Mimi fashion — didn’t allow it to deter her confidence. “Mimi’s Musical Revue Extravaganza is going to be the talk of the campus once it gets on its feet. I can already imagine interviews with the school paper, certificates of appreciation from the Dean — no, wait — a _statue_ erected in my honor! I’m giving people the chance to share the stage with _me_ , so if intimidation is this so-called ‘reason’ you’re talking about, then yes. I couldn’t agree more.”

Shaking his head of bushy hair, Tai sighed. “Guess some people never change… See you around, princess. Or better yet, not.”

As Tai turned his back to leave, all Mimi could see was her last chance for collegiate stardom slipping through the cracks of her fingers. Ending her day at the activity fair without a single notable signature would mean failure — a word that had no place in the girl’s vocabulary. She pursed her glossy pink lips and splayed her palms on the tabletop.

“You know, Tai, I think that _Sora_ would be happy to participate in my show if I asked her,” Mimi’s mouth lifted up into a victorious smile as she watched Tai’s retreating back freeze in place. “After all, I _am_ her best friend. And we tell each other _everything_ —“

Tai spun around and marched back over to the table. He stood mere inches from Mimi’s wicked grin, arms crossed in a silent challenge. “What do you want, Mimi?”

“A semi-competent performance partner.”

“And what makes you think that I’m the guy for the job?”

“For some reason you have juice at this school — which continues to confuse me, but _whatever_ ,” she waved a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s simple. You sign up, I get my leading man, _and_ just enough street credit to put my show on the map.”

Tai narrowed his eyes harshly. “Wait a sec — but what do _I_ get out of this?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” Mimi planted her hands on her well-defined hips with a hard eye roll. “In case your hair is _actually_ absorbing away at your memory, we’ve known each other for a while now. I know a few things about you, Tai Kamiya. Things that you might prefer to be kept a secret —“

“Alright, I’m done here,” Tai threw his hands up in defeat and frantically tucked away the vestiges of anxiety he felt toward the girl’s words. “Good luck with your little show, but I’m out.”

Mimi’s composure snapped before Tai could even attempt to turn around again. She surged forward to grab the boy’s wrist with desperation and surprising strength, lowering her voice to a frightening octave. “Take one more step, hair-for-brains, and I tell _everyone_ that you’re hardcore crushing on your best friend’s girlfriend.”

Tai, who often prided himself on his unflinching courage, was rendered speechless by Mimi’s intense glare.

“I might not be the queen I was in high school anymore, but I still know how to spread a good rumor,” and with that, Mimi’s expression instantly melted into one of pure innocence as she released her hold on Tai’s wrist. She batted her long lashes and smoothed out the bottom of her pink skirt before demurely taking a seat in her chair. “The decision is yours.”

Tai was right — some people never change. And Mimi’s uncanny ability to get her way through any merciless means necessary was certainly living proof of that. The jock’s mouth went dry at the mere thought of word getting out about his hidden feelings for Sora. He’d kept the truth to himself — for good reason — since their early high school days and he could only imagine the kind of terrible (and inevitable) backlash he’d have to face from Matt.

She may be lacking a moral conscience at times, but Mimi certainly had a knack for picking up on subtle romantic affections. And Tai had no trouble believing that this little pink terror would make good on her threat if he chose to defy her. His friendship with Matt — and Sora — meant too much for him to let it crumble in the face of one of Mimi’s petty schemes.

Tai hated that she was right. He hated that she had won.

“Fine. Okay? _Fine_. Sign me up,” he reached for the pen and scribbled his name aggressively onto the clipboard. “But just don’t let anyone see, got it?”

Mimi squealed at an ungodly pitch — forcing Tai to cover his ears — and clapped her hands together in celebration. That one sloppy signature was a beacon of hope for her show and her tarnished popularity. She could feel a crown atop her brunette head already.

“Rehearsals start Monday at seven, sharp. Don’t be late!” 

* * *

**August 13th, 2015**

It was becoming increasingly clear that Kari Kamiya desperately needed to invest in a day planner. Or a beeper. Or anything to keep her twenty-minute power naps in the darkroom from creeping up to the hour mark and ruining her schedule.

Because who had time to get a proper amount of sleep when there was homework to do? Photo shoots to attend? Portfolios to compile? She had to take it where she could get it.

A lack of sleep, however, was the least of Kari’s concerns. She would happily give up a week’s worth of rest if it meant she could make time to start taking her own pictures again. It seemed ironic that she came to college to do just that, but has yet to spend any time developing photos that she’s passionate about. Instead, she busied herself with sprinting from class to class, studio to studio, photo shoot to photo shoot. Overcommitment, apparently, was Kari’s fatal flaw. But the soft-spoken and outrageously generous photographer just couldn’t bring herself to say no to a request from a fellow student to help her with her lighting technique. Or a theatre major looking for updated head shots. Or the editor-in-chief of the school paper begging for her help after their resident photographer unexpectedly quit a few days prior.

It warmed her heart to do good, but she often found herself missing those quiet afternoons holed up in her high school’s photography classroom with nothing but her Nikon and a fresh roll of film to keep her company.

Kari was even beginning to question her ability to capture anything good. In high school, her friends served as her muses — their lively spirits and contagious energy made the creative juices in Kari’s head flow freely through her veins. And as depressing as it was to admit, she had yet to find something — or someone — equally as inspiring now that they all had their own scattered schedules to attend to.

Those disheartening thoughts haunted Kari’s mind as she skidded down the pristine marble hallway of the performing arts building, clutching a thick manilla folder of printed photos to her chest. She had agreed to step in for the school paper’s missing photographer and capture some shots of the dance team’s first rehearsal of the semester — which was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago. If the dance instructors were anything like her photography instructors, then tardiness was treated as the greatest offense to the artistic process.

As she scolded herself quietly under her breath, Kari took a sharp turn around the corner and collided right into something solid. The blow sent her tumbling backwards, collapsing in a heap on the floor with stray photos flying into the air. Then there was the telltale splat of something wet and scolding hot spilling atop the mess.

“No!” She hissed, scrambling to collect the coffee-drenched photos into a haphazard pile. “Oh, no!”

The poor bystander who had unfortunately gotten caught up in Kari’s hustle dropped down beside her and attempted to gather another pile of photos. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here, let me help —“

Their hands brushed together as they reached for the same photo and, immediately, their frazzled gazes locked in a moment of bewildered clarity.

“Hey — Kari!”

None other than TK Takaishi was beaming at her, youthful and charming as ever.    

Kari blanched. She quickly searched her brain for something devastatingly smart, witty, and subtly searing to say in reply — because that’s exactly what everyone _wants_ to say to an ex-boyfriend — but words were seemingly too much of a challenge to muster in that moment of utter shock.

“What are you doing here?” She decided to ask, lowering her voice to a whisper as if the vacant hallway wasn’t already private enough.

If TK was baffled by her question, then he didn’t let it show. There was a brief flicker of confusion that flashed through his impossibly blue eyes — a reaction that was only detectable by someone who had spent years getting to know every nuance of those cerulean orbs — but then he simply smiled, like he always did.

“I go to school here, remember? We both do,” TK chuckled as he collected more damp photos into his growing pile, and another imperceptible glimpse of disappointment crossed his face. “Easy to forget since this is the first time we’ve bumped into each other. Literally.”   

“Yeah, I’ve just been… really busy,” Kari explained vaguely, inwardly grimacing at the platitude of her own words.

True, Kari’s college schedule didn’t accommodate very many social activities, but that wasn’t the only reason behind her reluctance to reach out to TK. In fact, it had very little to do with time and everything to do with the rocky termination of their past relationship. The fear of crossing paths with him at some point on their mid-sized campus was something that occasionally plagued Kari’s thoughts. It was easy to ignore his existence over the summer when he’d spent a majority of his months in France with his grandparents, but, deep down, she knew that this awkward reunion was inevitable — especially when they continued to share so many mutual friends.

Still, that didn’t prevent her from cursing every higher deity she could think of that today — clumsy, frazzled, and _utterly_ unprepared — was the day it had happened.

“I’m really sorry about your pictures,” he apologized.

“It’s okay.”

“I guess I forgot to grab a lid for my coffee before running over here.”

“I noticed.”

TK sighed. Kari avoided eye contact. Then they both recalled the days when they could talk each other’s ears off.

Luckily — but not for Kari, of course — TK was never the type to let a little hardship deter his optimism. He neatly straightened out the pile of pictures in his hand and offered them to Kari, but not before stealing a glance.

“Hey, are these for the school paper?” He wondered as he identified a few familiar faces of fellow students smiling back at him from Kari’s photos. “Are _you_ the new photographer?”   

Kari nodded, snatching the pictures from TK’s hand and scrambling to her feet. “Um, yes. I was just on my way to the dance team rehearsal to take a few shots. Actually, I’m running late so I should —“

“Wait, I’m headed there, too!”

The pictures nearly slipped out of Kari’s hands all over again, but she fumbled just in time to keep the pile in her grasp.

Her spastic reaction was enough to elicit a hurried explanation from TK. “You’re looking at the paper’s head reporter. And I’m covering the team’s interview.”   

Of _course_.

“Oh,” Kari breathed, although she felt as if her lungs would run out of air at any moment. “What a coincidence.”

“C’mon, let’s go face the wrath of Madame Corvino together,” TK stood and took his place beside Kari. “Fair warning — she’s a great dance teacher, but a tiny piece of my soul dies every time she glares at me.”

 _Funny he should mention dying souls_ , Kari thought as she became hyper-aware of their close proximity. It suddenly dawned on her that it’d been nearly three months since she’d smelled his comforting scent, gazed into his crystalline eyes, or felt the familiar warmth flood through her body under his gentle smile.

Three long and — admittedly — _agonizing_ months.

Kari feared that the only thing that would blossom from her tongue was something involuntarily embarrassing should she choose to open her mouth, so the tiny brunette just nodded before silently making her way down the hallway with TK by her side.

He cast a sideways glance at the chaotic stack of photos still clutched to Kari’s chest. “Want me to carry your —“

“No, thank you.”

TK bit down on his bottom lip to suppress his amusement and, for some strange reason, it made her blood boil.

It suddenly seemed that purchasing a day planner was the _least_ of Kari’s concerns, after all.   

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** Why yes, there _are_ tons of unanswered questions surrounding this first chapter -- thanks for noticing! But seriously, all will be revealed as we journey further into the story. What happened to Sora and Matt that prompted him to leave that voicemail? Is Tai _actually_ going to go through with Mimi's showcase? And how did Kari and TK go from World's Cutest Couple to awkward exes? You shall see... And yes, there will be some time jumping in this fic. Just pay attention to the dates and you'll be fine. :) 

And Mimi was _totally_ a hardcore drama club aficionado/super-star in high school. It's my headcanon and _you can't convince me otherwise._   


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I want to thank everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! I'm very happy to be writing it so I'm glad you're all happy to read it, too. Please enjoy the next chapter! 

 **About Us**  
Chapter 2

* * *

 

**August 7th, 2015**

**TO:** [Mommy and Daddy]  
 **FROM:** [Mimi Tachikawa]   
 **SUBJECT:** My Musical Revue Extravaganza!

Dear Mommy and Daddy-kins,

Only one more month until my showcase! Yay!! Have my emails been going through? I sent you both an e-vite last weekend, but I never got a response. Should I send another just in case?

I miss you both oh so much! Next month cannot come soon enough. I can’t wait for you to see your little shining star finally take center stage. I reserved the _best_ seats in the auditorium for you — just speak with the box office when you arrive! 

I also made us a reservation at Rive Gauche for after the performance. I thought it’d be super fun to go out to dinner together, just like we used to! :)

So much love,  
Your Mimi

 

* * *

 

**August 14th, 2015**

The boys’ small two-bedroom apartment was, quite frankly, a complete shithole. It was an unspoken fact of life.

“But it has promise!” Tai had desperately attempted to convince his roommates upon showing them the questionable Craigslist ad during one of their so-called ‘ _family meetings_ ’. 

“And asbestos poisoning,” Joe had whined.

“And bedbugs,” Matt had chimed in.

“And probably a _very_ poor wifi connection,” Izzy had added. 

But the price just couldn’t be denied, and so, roughly a week later, the four struggling college boys loaded all of their belongings into their new apartment. And, much to their surprise, there was no asbestos, only one minor case of bedbugs, and a slightly-below-average wifi connection that had Izzy practically banging his head against the exposed brick wall whenever it decided to lag — which was often.

They soon discovered that cheap rent wasn’t the only redeeming quality of their living conditions — although, at times, it certainly seemed like it. The apartment was ideally nestled about ten blocks away from campus and a mere twenty minute train ride to Joe’s graduate classes in the heart of downtown. It was shabby, cramped, and had its own _very_ distinct odor, but it had seen the boys through some of their best and worst moments. It was within those very stain-ridden walls that Tai had thrown the most epic party of sophomore year. It was where Izzy had suffered many a mental breakdown during exam season, where they had all celebrated Joe’s acceptance into his top-choice medical school, and even where Matt’s band had rehearsed for a few miserable weeks after their usual space in the auditorium was hijacked by the theatre department’s spring showcase.

But in spite of it all, it was home.

For Tai, home was the one place where he could unwind and complain after a particularly exasperating day with minimal judgement from his roommates. And today, after spending a whopping three straight hours locked in a dance studio with Mimi, he had _plenty_ to complain about. 

The soccer player jimmied open the front door to find Matt on their threadbare couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and an arm resting around Sora’s shoulders as she curled into his side. On the opposite end of the couch, Izzy sat with his laptop in his lap, clicking away at the keys and nearly drowning out the sound of whatever they appeared to be streaming on the TV.

It was a common sight — one that he’d come home to many a time in the past — but, at that moment, it grated on Tai’s nerves.

“Hey,” Matt greeted when he heard the door slam shut. Sora, who was just beginning to rest her eyes, perked up groggily.

Tai tossed his athletic bag into the corner, grumbling incoherently in response as he stomped his way into the kitchen. He yanked on the fridge door and weighed his limited options with a scowl. The fridge was more or less empty, save for the top shelf which housed an array of organic-kosher-gluten-free nonsense — all dutifully labeled with Joe’s name.

“Can’t a guy come home to his shitty apartment after a long day of _torture_ without worrying about _starving_ to death?” Tai cried out in frustration. He quickly abandoned the fridge to scour the pantries instead.

“I made some cookies for you guys,” Sora offered. “There should still be some left on the counter.”

“Perhaps if said guy frequented the grocery store more often, then we wouldn’t have to rely on Sora’s generosity to keep us nourished,” Izzy deadpanned without even bothering to glance up from his computer screen.

Matt sighed, “Check the chart.” 

The Chores Chart was Joe’s brilliantly concocted plan to maintain the various duties around the apartment. It was taped onto the pantry door and resembled something that a teacher might use to keep a class of rowdy first graders in line, but it neatly outlined a month’s worth of chores and the roommate who was responsible for each job. And despite how much grief the other boys gave Joe for his neurotic need for organization, they couldn’t deny the efficiency of the chart.

Tai scanned the lousy piece of paper only to find his name written beneath, perhaps, his _least_ favorite category: grocery shopping. He had once tried to convince his roommates that he was violently allergic to canned foods and, therefore, was unable to carry out his monthly responsibility. However, that didn’t keep Joe from shoving a shopping list into his unwilling hands and sending him on his way. Tai had returned with nothing more than a bag of doritos, instant oatmeal, and a six pack of Yuengling.

“Screw the chart,” Tai mumbled, snatching a cookie from the plate on the countertop. “That’s what you guys get for leaving me in charge of the food.”

“Don’t you all take turns?” Sora piped up. “Seems pretty fair to me, Tai.”

The cookie in Tai’s hand stopped short right before it reached his mouth. His bad mood was making him irrationally stubborn, which meant that giving his friend the satisfaction of eating her cookies was out of the question. Instead, he marched back into the living room, planting himself directly in front of the TV screen, and glared.

“Oh, I’m sorry — if we’re being so _fair_ around here, then why don’t I see _your_ name on that chart, huh, Sora?” Tai pointed the cookie accusingly at the redhead. “‘Cause you’re here just as much as everyone else. Maybe you should start paying _rent_ , too!”

Sora’s jaw dropped open incredulously and even Izzy curiously glanced up from his laptop, but before a full-blown shouting match could break out, Matt began to interject.

“Okay, what’s with the attitude, man?” He demanded. “You’re acting insane.”

“Insane? I’ll tell you what’s insane,” Tai began at his loudest and most hysterical. “The fact that my life is being controlled by some prissy, five-foot-three, pink… nightmare! _That’s_ insane. She thinks she can just boss me around all because I agreed to be in her stupid show — well, _news flash_ , princess — the world doesn’t revolve around _you_! I have other responsibilities to focus on. Like class, and soccer practice, and —“

“Grocery shopping?” Izzy hinted gruffly.

Tai aimed the cookie at his red-haired roommate. “Keep it up, buddy, or we’re gonna find out how far I can shove this thing into your disk drive.”

“Then just quit,” Matt suggested. “If you’re gonna freak out over it like this, then tell Mimi it isn’t working out.”

Sora swatted at her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t give him any ideas,” she reprimanded. “Mimi’s been working on this show for _weeks_ and it’s really important to her. I know how she can get sometimes, but you can’t just abandon her like that.”

Tai knew that he couldn’t abandon Mimi for _many_ reasons — the main one having everything to do with that gorgeous pair of burgundy eyes that were now pleading with him to help her best friend out.

“Well, she should’ve thought of that _before_ she turned into a tyrant,” The soccer player growled as he took an angry bite out of the cookie that was still in his hand. “ _Dammit_ , this is _delicious_.”   

Sora preened happily. Matt and Izzy simultaneously rolled their eyes.

The front door was once again flung open in a flurry of stress and anxiety — which meant that none other than Joe himself was hurrying into the apartment, glasses slightly askew and expression perturbed. He didn’t miss a beat as he let his messenger bag slide off his shoulder and then made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Hi, Izzy, Tai, Matt, Sora,” The budding doctor greeted as he rushed past the couch. “What’s goin’ on, guys?”

They all knew that Joe’s question was asked mostly out of courtesy rather than genuine interest. Given the way their oldest roommate was now rummaging around the kitchen like a mad man, they all assumed that Joe was preoccupied with his busy schedule and didn’t _actually_ have time for idle chit-chat.

“Just the rapid downward spiral of Tai’s fragile sanity,” Izzy replied on behalf of the group. “You?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Joe said distractedly as he quickly began gathering the closest and most time-efficient meal he could find. “I took a little extra time on my anatomy quiz this morning so I was running late to my study group, but I had to leave about fifteen minutes early to make it to this seminar later tonight on — wait, the downward _what_ of _who_?”

Joe’s concerned face appeared around the corner of the doorway with one of Sora’s cookies halfway inside his mouth. He shot frantic looks at all of his roommates’ tense expressions.

“It’s only been a week and Mister Leading Man over here is already losing it,” Matt nodded toward Tai and then returned his attention to Joe. “Which means you owe me twenty bucks.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, guys,” Tai sneered as he watched Joe reach defeatedly for his wallet.

“Sorry, but it was just too easy,” Matt chuckled.

“Yeah, I mean, this is _Mimi_ we’re talking about,” Joe ventured as diplomatically as he could. “Everyone knows that you two —“

“Constantly fantasize about strangling each other until there isn’t a single breath left inside our lungs,” Tai muttered darkly.

Joe blinked his wide eyes before retreating back into the kitchen. “Well, I was going to say ‘don’t get along’, but, um, I guess you could say that, too…” 

The sound of the fridge door opening was immediately followed by a primitive cry that made everyone in the apartment flinch. Joe was back in the doorway in an instant.

“The _chart_ , you guys — _the chart!_ ” He scolded with arms flailing all around. “It’s very simple to understand. I even color-coded it! Why is there no food in the kitchen?”

Matt cleared his throat and shot Tai an expectant glance. “Don’t look at us, doc.”

Joe shifted his attention and Tai immediately brought his hands up in front of him for defense.

“So, funny story. I was _gonna_ go to the store, but…”

“You. Food. Go. _Now_.” 

The jock chuckled nervously. “Big fancy doctor talk like caveman?”

“ _Now!_ ” 

Tai fumbled for his keys and sprinted out the door.

* * *

**April 12th, 2015**

The sound of their laughter was the only thing echoing through the dark, vacant street of their neighborhood. The time was steadily inching toward midnight, which meant that everyone else was comfortably tucked away inside their homes on that warm spring evening. But not them.

It had become somewhat of a tradition, their late-night walks to the local park. It was there that they swayed on the swing set, gazed at the stars, shared their deepest secrets, and laughed until they cried. They were on their own little planet, drifting calmly through the galaxy — the planet of TK and Kari.

"I'm gonna miss this," TK admitted with a sullen grin, his feet shuffling against the concrete sidewalk as they strolled down the street.

Kari's head tilted. "Miss what?"

" _This_ ," he gestured vaguely to the space between them. "Once we graduate, I'm going to France for the whole summer —"

"Oh, poor you," Kari giggled. TK smirked.

"— which is only thirty-six days away," the blond boy shrugged. "Not that I'm counting or anything."

Kari was already well aware of her boyfriend's summer plans. It had been discussed — and then _re-discussed_ — plenty of times since his travel arrangements had been made. The couple were attempting to keep their spirits light, but that didn't stop the disappointment from occasionally settling in as they neared his departure date. It would be a dull, slow summer without TK by her side, Kari thought.

"But then you'll come back," she reminded him. "And in the meantime, I'll just have to find someone _else_ to have park adventures with."

TK watched the girl's lips curl upward and he did the same. "I knew it. I _knew_ you'd start looking for a shiny new replacement eventually."

"Hey, we've known each other for ten years now," Kari nudged his elbow. "I'd say that means you're stuck with me for the long haul."

"I'll haul for as long as you'll let me."

Their faces were suddenly illuminated by the dim light of the street lamp outside Kari's house. Never before had they ever craved the darkness more than they did in that moment because that street lamp meant that another nighttime rendezvous had come and gone. They clasped their hands and took their time as they wandered down the walkway to Kari's front door.

"Thirty- _five_ days," TK muttered.

"Stop that," Kari scolded gently. "We still have right now."

And on that quiet front porch, TK kissed her just as he always has — a simple but lingering press of the lips that signified so much more than a mere goodnight. Kari leaned forward, seeking out the warmth of his body and the minty scent of his shampoo. They parted, but never dropped their gaze.

"Goodnight, you."

"Goodnight, _you_."

Kari smiled as she dug around for her keys and TK reluctantly meandered back down the walkway. He only made it halfway before he paused.

"Hey, Kari?"

She turned around eagerly, one hand already on the doorknob.

TK's eyes sparkled with hope and adoration beneath the street lamp's glow. "I think I'm in love with you."

And just like that, their own little planet stopped spinning.

* * *

 

  **August 15th, 2015**

Cheering. Screaming. Applause. _Adrenaline._

It didn’t matter how seasoned a musician he became — Matt was convinced that he’d never grow tired of the inevitable post-concert high. The roar of the crowd and the pounding of the bass still rang relentlessly in his ears, but he exited the stage after his band’s encore performance with a ridiculously broad smile, trying to catch his breath in the best possible way.

He felt like he was floating as he navigated the backstage hallways, exchanging a few high-fives and breathless ‘congratulations’ with the stagehands and his bandmates along the way. He felt drunk, intoxicated by the music. The music that he’d spent many a sleepless night slaving over until he found the _perfect_ lyric or chord progression. The music that often expressed the most private inner workings of his mind. The music that the audience sang along to by heart as he grinned into the mic.   

 _His_ music.

Matt’s dressing room in the recreation center’s auditorium was more or less the size of a shoebox, but the blond frontman was no stranger to less-than-ideal performance conditions. He thought back to the days when his band was just starting out — sneaking into the campus facilities after hours for some rehearsal space and diligently broadcasting their band’s name through every social media platform known to the current generation. They played at school fundraisers, local street festivals, and in some of the sketchiest downtown lounges that Matt had ever seen. It was utterly unglamorous, but he knew that their struggle would eventually pay off once they got their name out into the music scene. And he was right. The Teenaged Wolves weren’t The Beatles — not _yet_ — but the band had managed to garner a passionate cult-like fan base within the community, primarily consisting of emotionally-unstable teenaged girls. It wasn’t much, but it was _something_. 

He pushed open the door to his dressing room with every intention of sinking down into the old, leather recliner in the corner until he regained the feeling in his legs, but Matt barely made it through the doorway before he got bombarded.

“Oh-em- _gee_! Matt Ishida of The Teenaged Wolves! What a _hunk_! Let’s take a selfie!”

But instead of a pack of deranged fangirls invading his personal space, Matt soon realized that it was none other than his little brother jumping around like a lunatic in front of his face.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Matt laughed, grabbing TK by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight embrace. “You made it.”

TK was laughing, too, as he wrapped his arms around his brother’s frame. “‘Course I did, dummy.”

“I thought you were visiting mom for the weekend,” said Matt. 

“I _was_ ,” TK began after pulling away to look his brother in his identically-colored eyes. “But then her publisher sprang some deadline on her — and you know how she gets when she’s in deadline mode,” The younger blond shook his head with mock disapproval, “ _Writers_.”

Matt smirked. “So what’d you think of the concert? Be honest.”

“Definitely an upgrade since the last time I saw you guys perform. You actually had _working microphones_ for once, you fancy big-shot,” TK’s bright, playful eyes were suddenly subdued with what his brother could only assume was sincerity. “Honestly, Matt, your music is something special. You were incredible tonight.” 

“I’ll say!”

The two brothers whirled around on the spot to identify the source of the unfamiliar voice. In the doorway of the dressing room stood a man in his late thirties — tall, lean, and stylish. He had the kind of smile that made people want to approach him and a pair of emerald eyes that gleamed with fascination and focus.

“Uh, sorry, sir,” TK piped up tentatively. “No fans allowed backstage.”

The stranger chuckled and it was a low, rumbling sound. “I’m not here for an autograph,” he removed the black fedora atop his head of raven-colored hair and sauntered closer to the boys. Matt stood his ground with confidence and curiosity as the man whipped out a small business card from his pocket. “Jason Fox. Talent agent, manager, and music producer. You can just call me Fox.”

Matt took the card with a dumbfounded hand. He looked at it for a long while and then back up at Fox’s grinning face. “Okay… Then what _are_ you here for?”

Fox laughed and the two brothers couldn’t help but jump at how unexpectedly boisterous the sound was.

“Kid,” he jabbed a long, slender finger into the center of Matt’s chest. “I’m here to turn you into a _rockstar_.”          

* * *

**August 16th, 2015**

**TO:** [Mimi Tachikawa]  
 **FROM:** [Kesuke Tachikawa]   
 **SUBJECT:** RE: My Musical Revue Extravaganza!

Darling,

Unable to attend your show. Mommy and I will be vacationing in the Bahamas for the whole month of September. I thought she already told you.

We’ll talk soon, princess.

Love,  
Daddy

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** The Tai/Matt/Izzy/Joe apartment dynamic is probably my favorite thing _ever_. I can only imagine the shenanigans that go down on a daily basis, haha! And now we finally get some insight into TK and Kari's relationship, pre-breakup. Still some dots to connect, but I can't just give it all away at one time. ;) We also have the beginning of Matt's arc, which is pretty easy to figure out after that scene. But how will it end up affecting Sora? And those emails... does anyone else hear the sound of my heart breaking?    


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** RAWWWR THIS CHAPTER TOOK FOREVER. Sorry for the wait, everyone, but real life can be a real bitch sometimes! I had some serious writer's block to sort through, but anyway - enjoy the next chapter!

 **About Us**  
Chapter 3

* * *

 

**December 25th, 2015**

" _Hi, you've reached Sora. Sorry I can't take your call right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"_

BEEP.

"So you know what I just realized? The last time you ignored one of my phone calls on purpose was back in the eighth grade when I accidentally got that wad of bubblegum stuck in your hair and then cut it out with a pair of safety scissors in art class. Remember that? Man, you were _pissed off_.

"… Okay, bringing that up again probably isn't making you feel any better, but I just wanted to remind you of yet another reason why I'm pretty much the biggest idiot on the face of the planet. And after last night… I'm two for two. I shouldn't have done that, Sora. I dunno what I was thinking. Or _not_ thinking.

"This isn't even fair. I can't apologize with a _voicemail_ so you're gonna have to answer eventually. Just call me back, okay? Please?

"Merry Christmas, by the way."

* * *

**August 21st, 2015**

Sora awoke to the pungent smell of pancakes.

On any other morning, the alluring scent would've brought a knowing smile to her lips as she imagined her culinarily-gifted boyfriend standing in front of the stove with nothing but a pair of sweatpants, a spatula in hand, and a strangely attractive case of bedhead. The thought alone would be enough to lure her out of bed and into the kitchen where she would witness the sight with her own two eyes. She would shuffle toward him, wrap her arms around his bare torso, and rest the side of her face between his shoulder blades with a contented sigh. Matt, in turn, would spin around in her arms and press a kiss on the top of her rumpled red head, breathing a low chuckle and a 'morning, beautiful' past his lips.

But this was not a typical morning.

The stench of breakfast brought nothing but confusion and curiosity as Sora stirred beneath her bed sheets. It was eight-thirty in the morning — a solid two hours before her first class of the day — but she still managed to rise from her bed, throw on her robe, and tiptoe out of her room.

Sora did a double-take when she spotted her roommate in the kitchen of their tiny apartment. Mimi stood by the stove, humming a happy tune while wearing nothing but a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra. The sight itself wasn't uncommon, but, before nine 'o clock, it was utterly unheard of. Mimi was a self-proclaimed morning hater and did nothing but whine whenever she was given the unfortunate task of waking up early. But she appeared functional and alert as she drizzled some syrup over a steaming stack of pancakes — which was reason enough for the redhead to worry about her friend's mental state.

"You're up early," she commented with a bit of astonishment in her tone, standing motionless in the doorway as if she'd just stepped into the twilight zone.

Mimi whirled around on the spot, slightly startled by her roommate's presence, but the doe-eyed look vanished from her face in an instant. Instead, the brunette jutted her hip out in some kind of ridiculous pose and flashed Sora a blindingly bright smile.

"Mandatory dance rehearsal," Mimi clarified before returning to her food preparation with a subtle eye roll. "Which means I'll be _attempting_ to teach Tai how to do something _graceful_ with those big, clunky feet of his."

"You're going to rehearsal with Tai," Sora chortled, "dressed like _that_?"

With innocent eyes, Mimi glanced down at her outfit — or lack thereof. "So?"

Sora simply shook her head in amused dismissal. She knew a lot about her childhood friend, including his behavior in the presence of half-naked women.

"I made breakfast," came Mimi's chipper segue when Sora offered no further elaboration. She waved her spatula toward the kitchen table like a magic wand. "Now come — sit, sit!"

Sora was far too mystified to resist. She cautiously made her way to the table and sank into the seat where Mimi had already prepped an empty plate, silverware, and a fresh cup of coffee.

"Mimi, this is…" she began incredulously, cradling the cup of hot liquid between her palms. "Did I miss something?"

"Of course not, silly," Mimi chirped as she rummaged around on the kitchen counter. "Nobody needs a special excuse to enjoy my _famous_ blueberry pancakes," She stood over Sora's shoulder. "Now, eat up. You're going to need _all_ your strength this morning."

Mimi used the spatula to scoop up Sora's portion and placed it on her awaiting plate — except it wasn't a pancake. In fact, it wasn't even delicious or edible. Sora found herself staring down at a plain white envelope bearing her name and a painfully familiar emblem in the top corner.

There was nothing but a piercing silence.

"What's this?" Sora finally asked, her voice sounding distant and foreign to her own ears.

"You _know_ what it is, Sora."

Indeed, Mimi was right. Sora knew _precisely_ what she would discover inside that envelope — her future. Her _fate_. An executive decision from the admissions panel for the Fashion Institute of Technology's renowned graduate design program. After weeks of stress, doubt, and obsessively checking the mailbox, the moment of truth was finally right in front of her. Now. On her breakfast plate.

"Oh, my god," Sora breathed as the weight of the situation suddenly began to steamroll its way into her mind's realization. The redhead grabbed the envelope in one swift swipe and leapt to her feet. "Oh, my _god_ , Mimi, it's — it's _here_ , it's right _here_!"

At her side, Mimi was practically vibrating with anticipation. "So what are you waiting for? Open it, open it!"

"I don't know if I can," she panicked.

"Oh, for goodness _sake_ ," Mimi lunged forward and flailed her arms around as she frantically tried to pry the envelope right out of Sora's hands, but the red-haired roommate skillfully kept it away from the girl's grasp. "If _you_ won't, then _I_ will. Do you even _appreciate_ how much willpower it took for me to _not_ rip that thing open the minute I got the mail this morning? I don't _do_ patience, Sora!"

"Wait, Mimi, just _wait_!" Sora cried as she nearly fumbled over her chair in an attempt to distance herself from Mimi's assault. "I just… need a minute, okay?"

The brunette huffed in defeat, blowing away a few stray locks of her stylish up-do that had fallen into her face during their tussle. Sora took a few idle steps to the other end of the kitchen, back facing her roommate, knees wobbling, and shoulders slumped as she examined the envelope in her tight grasp.

Her fingers itched to slide beneath the paper flap and break the seal with a satisfying rip — one second closer to the rest of her life. But she couldn't. Her hands were frozen and clenched too tightly to move. Her mind raced almost as fast as her pounding heart with memories that fit perfectly within that stark white envelope.

She thought about her mother working extra hours to pay for all of those art classes.

Her fingers inched toward the seal.

She thought about her supportive professors who encouraged her to take her design education to the next level upon graduation.

The top flap slowly peeled away from the envelope.

She thought about all those sleepless, stressful, and tearful nights that were spent perfecting her personal essay, gathering recommendation letters, and compiling her portfolio sketches.

She had fought for this moment. She _wanted_ this. She wanted this more than _anything_.

Finally, Sora's unsteady hands removed the letter from its paper confines and the floor melted away beneath her feet.

_Sora Takenouchi,  
_ _Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into The Fashion Institute of Technology's Graduate Design Program as a member of the class of 2018…_

"I got in," she mumbled.

Mimi jumped to her side in an instant to read over her shoulder. "Pardon?"

"I got in, Mimi. I'm _going_ ," the redhead spun around, her expression brightening as her words echoed ceremoniously through her brain. " _I'm going to F.I.T.!_ "

Mimi's shrill, deafening squeal would've normally given Sora a migraine, but her head was already preoccupied with reciting the printed words of her acceptance letter over and over again. Those words were _hers_ and nobody else's.

She had earned them.

* * *

 

**August 17th, 2015**

Tai was scowling quite impressively.

He wasn't usually much of a scowler — the boy's typical demeanor was much more lighthearted than that — but there was something about walking the marble halls of the performing arts building that never ceased to contort his expression into a shameless _grimace_. From a distant classroom, he could hear someone belting out an operatic aria. He heard a plethora of different instruments squeaking and riffing as he passed the practice rooms. And there was the unmistakable stench of hairspray and pretentiousness in the air.

This was _not_ , by any means, Tai's natural habitat.

He felt strange and awkward whenever he passed a group of legitimate theatre students on his way to the dance studio for rehearsal. Perhaps it was just his morbid imagination getting the better of him, but the jock could've sworn he noticed their judgmental glares as they easily detected his anti-thespianism like a blinking sign above his head.

 _I'm not from here! I'm being held hostage by one of your frilly, pink leaders! Help me!_ , Tai felt like shouting to the passersby, but he refrained. The last thing he needed was a bunch of drama nerds thinking he was even more strange than they already probably did.

The music continued as Tai traveled further down the hallway, wincing as the various noises blended together in a messy, haphazard symphony. Did they _have_ to play so loud? And what on _earth_ was that shrill screeching noise?

It was no instrument. In fact, it was the telltale sound of hysterical sobbing coming from inside the girl's bathroom. More specifically, _Mimi's_ hysterical sobbing.

Tai hesitated and then took a few steps backwards until he was standing in front of the ladies restroom. After spending far too many hours in Mimi's presence over the past few days, he was confident in his ability to recognize almost every facet of her voice — especially the annoyingly shrill ones. And there was no denying that Mimi was, indeed, on the other side of the door, bawling her eyes out.

Suddenly, there was a dark urge picking away at Tai's mind, telling him to simply move along. Mimi's desperate and literal cries for attention were none of his concern. She was complicated, prissy, and treated him more like a verbal punching bag than a performance partner, and, therefore, didn't deserve an ounce of his sympathy.

But then there was the _other_ urge — the more dominant and big-brotherly urge — reminding him that no girl deserved to wallow in depression from within the confines of an unsanitary bathroom stall.

Tai sighed. _Damn_ his humanity.

"Alright," he called out, covering his eyes with one hand and using the other to push through the bathroom door. "Male coming through. Ladies, prepare yourselves if — aw, screw it, I don't give a shit."

He swung open the door to reveal a vacant bathroom, much to his relief — because he could only handle one screaming girl at a time — and made his way to the only stall with its doors closed. As Mimi continued to wail, he raised a fist and rapped his knuckles against the door.

"Mimi, are you —"

He was interrupted by a fresh bout of deranged blubbering.

"Do you need any —"

More blubbering.

"… Can you even hear —"

Still, there was blubbering, somehow louder than before, and Tai's patience shattered as quickly as the sound barrier.

"Mimi, I'm not playing around — open the door!" He growled, slamming his open palms against the stall, only adding to the ridiculous commotion. Suddenly, the metal door flew open and Tai had to bring his hands to a screeching halt to keep from smacking them directly into Mimi's face.

Her cheeks were flushed beneath the tear stains, the pink color extending all the way to the tip of her delicate nose. A bit of mascara had melted under her eyes and her mocha-colored hair appeared much more untamed than she'd normally allow in public. She would've looked quite pitiful if it weren't for her glossy eyes fixed into a glare.

"Why?" The girl demanded as she stepped out of the stall, shoving her shoulder into Tai's as she passed him. "Why should _you_ care? Did you only come in here to tell me that I'm being a _snob_? Or _selfish_?" Mimi sniffed loudly as she stared, horrified, at her reflection in the mirror, and then grappled desperately for a wad of paper towels to dab her eyes. "Or maybe you just came to remind me — for the _millionth_ time — that being in my show is a big waste of your _precious_ time. Isn't that right, mister soccer star?"

Tai was speechless. He'd experienced a disgruntled Mimi plenty of times, but never quite like this. "I…"

"Well, congratulations, because you got what you've wanted from the very beginning," she whipped her head around to meet Tai's gaze, a new round of tears threatening to spill over her lashes. "The show is _cancelled_. You're finally free of the evil ice queen's clutches, so go enjoy your freedom and _leave me alone_."

"Wait — what?" Tai's stupefied face appeared behind Mimi's shoulder in the mirror. "Cancelled? What do you mean, cancelled?"

"I _mean_ it's over. Done. _Not_ happening," she chucked her paper towels into the trash bin. "Is that enough of a vocabulary lesson for you, jock?"

Tai rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, but _why_? What happened?"

Mimi lifted her nose in a gesture of confidence despite her frazzled appearance. "I don't expect you to understand, but," her voice wavered with emotion. "My mother and father will _not_ be attending my performance."

"That's it?" Tai snorted insensitively. "You're calling it quits because mommy and daddy won't be there to hand you a bouquet after your final bow?"

And just like that, the flood gates were opened once again. Mimi threw her head back and sobbed so loudly that Tai had to cover his ears. The brunette sunk to the floor with a pitiful plop, pulled her legs into her chest, and buried her face into her knees, shoulders shaking as the sobs rippled through her tiny frame.

"I told you," she whimpered, "that you wouldn't," a choked sob, " _understand_!"

Tai dragged his fingers through his messy brown hair and looked to the ceiling. Someone up there must've _really_ had it out for him.

"I just meant…" he ventured carefully, knowing that Mimi's fragile and potentially terrifying emotions could turn on him in an instant. "Why is it so important for your parents to be there?"

The sobs slowly but surely subdued as Mimi gained enough composure to lift her head from her knees. Her long hair drooped downward, shielding her face like a curtain, so she reached up with a trembling hand to push the locks behind her ear. She took a few steadying breaths with her damp eyes trained diligently on the tiled floor beneath her, as if she were contemplating something of great importance. Tai couldn't quite pinpoint what that might be, but he did know that he'd never seen Mimi look more vulnerable than she did when she shifted her attention, blinking up at him with a heartbreaking gaze.

"I've been in twenty-six school productions," Mimi began, her voice rusty but composed. " _Twenty-six_. And do you know how many of them my parents have attended? None."

Tai remained perfectly still.

"No matter how hard I try to work around their schedules, something always comes up," she continued. "An emergency case at daddy's firm, a luncheon at my mother's country club, or a spur-of-the-moment vacation to the Bahamas without telling their only daughter," Mimi looked away when a tear began sliding down her porcelain cheek. "I thought that this showcase would be the perfect opportunity to show them how far I've come — that I really _do_ deserve for them to be proud of me — but sometimes… sometimes I feel like they don't _want_ to see me."

And then she cried. Only this time, there was no screeching, wailing, or blubbering to be heard. Mimi simply allowed the tears to flow — quiet, gentle, and broken.

Tai scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the floor as the girl's words penetrated his mind. Wordlessly, he took a seat beside Mimi on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning his head back against the wall with a muted thud. He recalled his long history of soccer games and how many times he remembered seeing his family in the crowd. Time after time, they were always there. And although it was mildly embarrassing whenever he'd catch a glimpse of his mother blowing him kisses from the stands, he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Simply knowing that he was being supported made Tai play harder, better, faster. And Mimi had never known that kind of strength.

It suddenly made sense. He finally understood.

"Screw 'em," he said with a shrug.

Mimi wiped at her eyes before knitting her brow in his direction. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Screw 'em," Tai repeated, turning only his head to meet her watery eyes. "You've been putting everything you've got into this show for weeks. So don't do it for them. Do it for yourself."

She stared at him, long and hard, as if she'd never heard those words before. "Do you really mean that?"

"Mimi, I'm choosing to spend my afternoon on the floor of the girl's bathroom in the freakin' performing arts building," Tai griped. "Not even _I_ would take a joke that far."

The girl giggled and, for some reason, it warmed Tai's insides.

"I can't believe I told _you_ all of that," Mimi shook her head in disbelief.

Tai smirked. "Yeah, well, I didn't see anyone _else_ trying to break down the bathroom stall."

"But you have to _swear_ you won't tell anyone that I let you see me like this."

"Seriously?"

" _Swear it_."

"Okay, I swear, your secret's safe with me," he moved to his feet, wiped off the back of his pants, and held his hand out to Mimi. "C'mon, we have some rehearsing to do."

Through the vestiges of her tears, she smiled and took his hand.

* * *

 

**August 19th, 2015**

"Is this seat taken?"

Kari looked up from her notebook and found herself making eye contact with TK's grinning face. He stood beside the empty chair across from her with a coffee in hand, wearing the most ridiculous beanie atop his unruly blond head.

Who the _hell_ even wears a knit hat in the middle of August?

"Actually…" Kari faltered as she quickly thought of a decent excuse, but nothing came to her. She had always calmly accepted the fact that lying had never been one of her innate talents, but today she cursed whatever higher power was responsible for that cruel trick of fate. "… go right ahead."

She barely got the words out before TK was sliding into the chair, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable. Kari cleared her throat and returned her attention to her work.

Ever since their unfortunate reunion a few days prior, Kari had been bumping into TK almost everywhere — on the quad, in the hallways, and now in the campus coffee shop. And she had the sinking suspicion that mere coincidence wasn't _entirely_ to blame. They were already spending more time together than Kari would've liked, thanks to their positions on the school paper, but that didn't seem to keep TK from carrying on as if the past three months hadn't actually happened.

He broke the silence with a contented sigh. "Nothing like a good cup of coffee, am I right?"

"Mhm."

"Unless you're a tea drinker," TK prattled on innocently. "But if I remember correctly, you've always been a caramel-macchiato-hold-the-whip kind of girl, right?"

Kari put her pen down and looked up again. "TK, I'm _really_ trying to get some homework done —"

"Are these for the paper?" He reached for the manilla folder that was peeking out from beneath Kari's mess of papers before she could stop him.

"Oh — yeah. They're, um, for the dance team article," she explained anxiously. "I just had them developed this morning."

Under normal circumstances, Kari rarely got nervous when it came to showcasing her photos, but there was something about her ex-boyfriend's focused gaze that made her hold her breath and idly fiddle her fingers together. TK flipped through the photos, his expression utterly unreadable.

"Huh," he finally said.

Kari, suddenly a bit defensive, straightened up in her chair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, it's just…" TK pulled in his lips as he gave the photos a final glance. " _Huh_."

It was a rare occasion, indeed, when Kari lost her temper and, at that moment, she felt herself teetering on the edge.

"You know, for a writer, you're being annoyingly vague," she told him pointedly.

"It's called building the suspense," TK chuckled.

"Then just skip straight to the plot twist," Kari said with a sigh. "Are they really that bad?"

TK's eyes widened in surprise. "No, definitely not. Your photos are never _bad_ , Kari," he explained. "They're just a little… you could say… _lifeless_."

The young girl's eyes narrowed like an arrow preparing for a bullseye before she snatched the manilla folder out of his hands, "Oh. Well. I appreciate the honesty, I guess."

"I'm not trying to offend you or anything, but I know you can do better," he said.

"And how would you know something like that?" Kari asked brusquely.

The corner of TK's mouth twitched upward. "Because I know _you_."

Kari didn't respond. She didn't _have_ a response. She simply busied herself with gathering her belongings into a pile on the table.

"You're ignoring me," TK commented with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"I'm not _ignoring_ you," Kari defended as she shoved her notebook into her bag. "I just don't have anything to say."

He took a thoughtful sip from his coffee cup. "That's okay. You've never been a big talker, anyway," he grinned. "Going somewhere?"

Kari was standing, her bag hanging off of her shoulder and her empty coffee cup in hand. "I'm going to be late for class."

"Wouldn't want that," said TK. "Catch you later, then."

With a hasty nod, Kari turned on her heel and headed out the door, leaving him and his stupid beanie behind.

* * *

 

**August 21st, 2015**

In the afternoon, the grey clouds opened up to a steady rain. Sora was caught without an umbrella, effectively drenching her from head to toe, but not even that minor misfortune could sour her mood.

She was still reeling from her acceptance into F.I.T., and rightfully so. This was easily her greatest accomplishment and she couldn't deny how utterly _proud_ she was of herself.

Sora's emotions were not typically wasted on herself. She was happiest when helping, doting, or giving to a loved one — nurturing to a fault. This sense of pride within herself was something foreign, but — she had to admit — she kind of enjoyed it.

It was late by the time Sora started making her way back to her apartment for the night, and the rain was still wreaking its havoc over the city. As she rode the elevator up to the third floor of her building, she wrung out the ends of her short red hair, which now probably resembled something like a frizzy mop. She'd have to beg Mimi to let her use some of her fancy haircare products after her shower this evening. After rustling around for her keys, Sora managed to unlock the door and step inside.

Every single light in the apartment was shut off, except for a small sliver peeking out from the crack beneath Sora's bedroom door. She didn't recall leaving any lights on before she left for the day, but, then again, things had been a bit of a whirlwind after opening her letter. Perhaps she forgot.

"Meems?" She called out as she crept closer to her room. "Is that you?"

When she opened the door, she discovered that her bedroom had been transformed into a candlelit wonderland. Everything was shrouded in a dim, orangey glow, including her boyfriend who stood in the center of the room with a handsome grin.

"Matt —" Sora breathed, her lips twisting upward into a smile almost immediately as her eyes tried to take in as much of the scenery as possible. "What's all this?"

Matt chuckled — a low, easy rumble in his chest — as he sauntered toward the redhead. "I figured since we couldn't go out on a date tonight, I'd just bring the date to you," his strong arms looped around Sora's waist once he was close enough and his eyes stole a quick, almost imperceptible glance at her attire. "But I didn't know you'd be getting all dressed up for me."

Sora, too, looked down at her damp clothing and then swatted at her boyfriend's shoulder as he snickered.

"If I didn't know any better," she began, lifting a hand to smooth down her messy hair. "I'd say you were just trying to butter me up."

Spontaneous romantic gestures weren't normally in the couple's arsenal. Instead, they chose to express their affection through subtle glances across a crowded room or a brush of the hands beneath the dinner table. Sora couldn't help but think how unusual this elaborate display must feel for the both of them.

"No ulterior motives, I promise," Matt raised his own hand to gently stop Sora's from fiddling with her appearance. "Except… maybe one."

Sora cocked her head to the side. "Oh?"

That was Matt's cue to rush over to her bedside table and turn back around with two flutes of bubbling champagne. The grin on his face was infectious and broader than Sora had ever remembered seeing it.

Then it clicked. Had he somehow already heard about her acceptance?

"Matt," she giggled, taking one of the glasses when it was offered. "How did you —"

"I have something to tell you."

Then it un-clicked.

"You do?" She tried her very best to keep from looking even mildly crestfallen. "Well, as a matter of fact, so do I."

"Me first?" He asked hopefully, and Sora gave him a small nod in response. Matt took her hand and led her to the edge of the bed where they both took a seat. "I met with Fox a couple times this week."

Sora perked up. She recalled the undeniable excitement in Matt's brilliantly blue eyes when he told her all about the mysterious manager who had approached him after his latest gig.

"He's really interested in the band. We got to play a few songs for him the other day," the blond took a deep breath as if to keep himself from bursting out of pure elation. "He wants to sign us, Sora — to a real record label."

"Oh, my _god_ ," she gasped, her free hand cupping her mouth. "A record label? That's incredible!"

Matt laughed. "I know, it's — everything I've been working for," he seemed to compose himself, his voice its usual silken purr once again. "And I couldn't have done it without you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sora blushed.

"I'm not. I'm serious," he shifted closer, his thumb rubbing aimlessly circles around her knuckles. "I wouldn't be here right now without my number one fan," he held out his champagne flute with his free hand. "To us."

Sora wanted to protest, but now wasn't the time for quarreling. She smiled and touched her glass to his. "To us," she repeated.

After a silent beat where they both took sips of their drinks, Matt turned his attention back to Sora. "So what were you going to tell me?"

The words blossomed on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't bring herself to speak them out loud. Sora took one look at her boyfriend's bright, enthused eyes and knew that she'd never forgive herself if she stole this moment from him. Matt had thrown his entire being into his music career and it was finally getting the recognition it deserved.

And she wouldn't dare take that away from him.

"Just…" she grinned softly. "I'm just so happy for you."

His hand reached out to cup the back of her neck and, slowly but surely, their smiling lips met in a tender kiss. There would be plenty of other opportunities to share her own good news, but tonight was not the time.

Tonight belonged to Matt.

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** Hooray for more cryptic voicemails, yay! :P Kind of a loaded chapter, but it was necessary to start moving the plots along. Maybe you guys can start guessing how things will pan out - or maybe you'll get totally tripped up by the plot twists. :D Thanks for reading! More to come!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Writer's block is THE WORST THING. That's all I'm gonna say.

Also, please note that I am changing this fic rating to T! Yes, yes, _scandalous_ , I know. The language is gonna get a little harsh every now and then, but hey - what college student _doesn't_ occasionally spout obscenities? ;)

 **About Us**  
Chapter 4

* * *

 

**September 5th, 2015**

**TO:** [Matt Ishida, Sora Takenouchi, Tai Kamiya, Kari Kamiya, TK Takaishi, +15 others]  
 **FROM:** [Mimi Tachikawa]  
 **SUBJECT:** ONE MORE WEEK!

If you haven't already RSVP'd to my Musical Revue Extravaganza on the 12th, then please reconsider your life choices and do it! Invite your friends and family because this is going to be one musical spectacular that you won't want to miss. It may be your one and only opportunity to witness a star before she becomes too important to remember any of your names. :)

xoxoxoxo,  
Mimi

* * *

 

**September 2nd, 2015**

"He's everywhere, Yolei. _Everywhere_."

Kari paced the perimeter of her dorm room like a caged animal. Yolei, her lavender-haired roommate, peeked her bespectacled eyes out from over the top of her magazine as she lounged on her bed.

"Maybe he's a stalker," she suggested brightly. "Like one of those vengeful ex-boyfriends in a Lifetime movie special."

Her farfetched theory was promptly ignored amidst Kari's tirade.

"—And the other day he had the nerve to call my photos _lifeless_ ," she scoffed. "As if he knows _anything_ about photography."

The magazine dropped from Yolei's hands, revealing her open-mouthed stare. "What a _dickwad_."

"I _know_ ," Kari agreed indignantly. Then her pacing came to a halt, and she began nibbling on her lower lip with what could only be described as guilt. "… Actually, I wouldn't go _that_ far. I mean, he _did_ say it as politely as he could."

"Well, I could just _politely_ knee him in the crotch," Yolei jumped off her bed and planted her fists on her slender hips. "But that would still make me a raging bitch, wouldn't it?"

Kari blinked. "I guess so."

"You're too soft, Kamiya!" She cried. "You've been complaining about TK _all_ afternoon. You're supposed to hate his guts, not defend him when he insults you!"

"But he was just trying to be helpful —"

"No!" Yolei surged forward and gripped Kari's frail shoulders, their faces only inches apart. "He was trying to get a rise out of you. Because that's what ex-boyfriends do."

Kari couldn't help but notice how hysterical and frenzied her roommate's eyes were becoming — much like they always did whenever she embarked on one of her many girl-power rants. "If you say so, Yolei…"

"Listen," the purple-haired firecracker gave Kari's shoulders a firm shake. "The next time he happens to just _pop up_ somewhere, you're not gonna play nice."

"I'm not?"

"No way in hell!" Yolei pulled her hands away and began marching determinedly around their dorm. "That was the _old_ Kari. The _new_ Kari is _ferocious_ ," she spun on her heel and faced her roommate with gritted teeth. "You're gonna look him straight in the eye and say ' _back off, buddy_ '!"

Kari frowned. "Yolei…"

"Say it!"

" _Yolei_."

"Say it, Kari!"

The brunette sighed in defeat. "Back off, buddy."

Yolei was beside herself with empowerment, punching her fists into the air. "Louder!"

"Back off, buddy!"

 _Well_. It _did_ feel nice to say.

"Again!"

" _Back off, buddy_!" They shouted together.

There was a knock at their door. Both girls hurried across the room, swinging the door open, and frightening their visitor with a manic cry of, "BACK OFF, BUDDY!"

Davis, who had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of their rampage, nearly stumbled backwards in fright. "What the fuck, you guys?!"

Kari immediately softened her expression and cleared her throat. "Oh, sorry, Davis."

"It works!" Yolei cheered before turning her rabid attention on their friend. "What do you want, male intruder?"

"Well, I was _gonna_ see if you guys wanted to head over to the cafeteria," Davis said. "There's an ice cream social going on for the French Honor Society or somethin'. I say we fake an accent and crash."

Yolei pursed her lips in thought, but then retreated back into the room. "Can't. _Way_ too much homework."

Just as Davis began grumbling his complaints, Yolei spoke up again. "But _Kari_ is available."

Kari shot an alarmed look over at her roommate at the same time that Davis beamed at his new companion. "Actually, I —"

"Kari _loves_ ice cream," Yolei chirped. "Don't you, Kari?"

"I —"

"Sweet! Then it's a date!" Davis exclaimed, just a bit too pleased with the outcome. "Catch you later, Yo- _lame_."

Yolei stuck her tongue out at the boy as he practically skipped his way down the hall. Kari, on the other hand, lingered in the doorway with uncertainty, glaring daggers at her eccentric friend.

"Trust me," is all Yolei said before nudging the concerned girl out of the room and slamming the door closed behind her.

* * *

 

**September 5th, 2015**

**TO:** [Matt Ishida, Sora Takenouchi, Mimi Tachikawa, Kari Kamiya, TK Takaishi, +15 others]  
 **FROM:** [Tai Kamiya]  
 **SUBJECT:** RE: ONE MORE WEEK!

AFTER PARTY AT MY PLACE! BYOB, BITCHES.

\- Tai

* * *

 

**September 7th, 2015**

**SORA [6:49pm]:** How's the songwriting going?  
 **SORA [6:50pm]:** I was wondering if you wanted to take a break soon? Maybe grab some food with me?  
 **SORA [6:59pm]:** Matt? You there?

 **MATT [7:04pm]:** Can't. Sorry.

 **SORA [7:04pm]:** But you've been working all night. Please tell me you've already eaten something.

 **MATT [7:13pm]:** I'll eat when I'm hungry, ok?

 **SORA [7:14pm]:** That's what I was afraid of.  
 **SORA [7:14pm]:** Where are you?  
 **SORA [7:18pm]:** Matt.

 **MATT [7:29pm]:** Auditorium.

It was after hours and the lights of the campus' main auditorium were only half lit as Matt sat on a stool, center stage, with his trusty guitar strapped across his body. His eyes accustomed to the dim light, so he could see Sora when she walked through the back doors and took a seat in the sixth row. She silently regarded the sight of his slumped shoulders, the concentrated scowl pulling relentlessly at his lips, and his tired fingers as they plucked aimlessly at the guitar strings.

He'd been working on this song for quite a while and, from the looks of it, with very little success.

The redhead waited patiently in her seat until the cacophony of random chords was interrupted by a frustrated growl. Matt's cry resonated through the vacant venue, followed by an abrupt silence. He raked a restless hand through his flaxen hair and stood up with such a start that the stool he'd been sitting on teetered uneasily, and then eventually fell over onto its side. That was Sora's cue.

"It sounded pretty good to me," she spoke up as she stood and made her way closer to the stage.

Matt was far beyond encouraging words at this point. In fact, he even failed to notice his girlfriend as she climbed the stairs on stage left. He just wandered aimlessly around the space, his footsteps heavy with aggravation.

"It's _pointless_! This is _garbage_! Fox is a fucking _idiot_ if he thinks he can just —"

Sora carefully crept closer. "Why don't you just take a break for a little while…?"

"—pressure me into writing this _shit_ he calls _music_!"

"Okay, no break," she sighed and crossed her arms. "But stomping around stage like a madman isn't going to help anything, you know."

"There wouldn't be a problem if he just let me use my _own_ music, but — no — apparently it's not fucking _good enough_ —"

"Hey."

Finally, Matt froze. He found himself staring down into Sora's concerned eyes, his face cupped on either side by her gentle hands. Her touch was enough to drag him back to reality. She always seemed to have that effect on him. When everything in his universe appeared to be crumbling around him, no matter how insignificant, there was Sora to keep him grounded — like an unbreakable tether.

The blond released a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Although his face was still resting securely between Sora's hands, he darted his gaze to the side in shame. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," she told him. "I'm just here to make sure you don't make the impulse decision to dive head-first off this stage."

A fleeting smile dared to grace his lips. "I was considering it, trust me."

"Oh, come on, it can't be _that_ bad," Sora reasoned, retracting her hands. "Play it for me."

Matt turned a shade of red that rivaled the girl's hair. "Huh?"

"I mean, if you don't mind, I'd love to hear what you have so far," Sora walked to where the stool lay on the ground and restored it to its rightful position. She took a seat and angled her body toward him, grinning hopefully. "Please? It's just me."

He stared down at his guitar for a long while, mulling over his options. Jumping head-first off the stage was beginning to sound more and more appealing.

"Fine," Matt conceded as he adjusted the instrument in his hands. "But I warned you."

Sora gave him a look as his fingers strummed the opening chords, filling the auditorium with music once again. It was a catchy, poppy tune — unlike the beautifully melancholy melodies that usually sprouted from the boy's guitar — but Sora was determined to keep a dutiful pokerface until the very end, for Matt's sake.

And then he began to sing along.

" _Ooh, baby, your love is like a volcano… You get me so hot, then you bring me down low… Like an eruption every time that we meet, I gotta have 'ya, yeah, I can't stand the heat. Like a volcano-oh-oh-oh, like a volcano-oh-oh-oh…_ "

Matt peered up from under his eyelashes to catch a glimpse of Sora's reaction and, suddenly, the chorus came to a stop with an abrupt _twang_ of guitar strings. The auditorium filled up with silence yet again and Sora was suddenly, awkwardly, disturbingly aware that it was her turn to respond. Sometime during the impromptu performance, the girl's hand had crept its way up to her mouth, so she pulled it away and placed it innocently on her lap, out of view from Matt's expectant gaze.

They locked eyes for a fraction of a second, sharing a private moment that didn't need idle words to convey what they were both thinking: it _sucked_.

"It's nice," she answered a little too quickly, nodding vehemently.

Matt heaved a long, unconvinced sigh while he removed his guitar and propped it against the proscenium wall. "I didn't make you sit through that torture just so you could lie to me."

"It's just… _different_ than what I was expecting," Sora ventured carefully, though she was having difficulty thinking of words that were just neutral enough to keep whatever positivity he had left afloat. "Not in a _bad_ way, but —"

"In a _terrible_ way."

"I think you're being a little too hard on yourself —"

"Sora, this isn't _me_ ," he was standing taller now, his voice rising in volume. "I would never write this kind of shit in a million years — but it's what Fox wants. He says it'll sell, it'll get our name out there. So now I have a notebook full of songs that nobody is _ever_ gonna hear. Songs that mean something, that actually have _substance_ ," a short, dry scoff fell past his lips. "A waste of time, apparently."

Sora quietly got to her feet. "I like your songs."

Matt's mouth twitched, halfway between an appreciative smile and a disheartened grimace. "I'm telling Fox first thing tomorrow. Either he lets us write the music that _we_ want to write or The Teenaged Wolves are walking."

" _No_ ," the word escaped Sora's mouth before she even knew it had formed on her tongue.

"No?" Matt echoed, a bit thrown by the girl's firm opposition.

"I've seen how hard you've worked for this, Matt. I know how badly you want this," Sora could feel the passion quickly rising in her chest, making her uplifting lecture sound more like a desperate plea. "Just think about all the late night rehearsals, and the pointless gigs at those sketchy lounges downtown, and all the hours you spent hanging up posters all around campus. Are you really going to let all of that be for nothing? This is your dream and I'll never forgive myself if I don't do everything in my power to keep you from walking away from it."

Matt's eyes never once left Sora's, watching with admiration as those burgundy orbs flickered from invigoration to forceful determination, and then back again. He was floored.

"One day you'll be playing _your_ songs for sold-out audiences around the world," she carried on. "This is only temporary — until you guys _do_ gain some more fans. I'm sure Fox knows what he's doing, so you should just follow his lead for a little while longer," a subtle, wry grin crossed her face. "Even if it means singing songs that sound like they came from a Jonas Brothers tribute band."

They couldn't help themselves. Sora's smile lifted upward and Matt followed suit, and soon they were both laughing.

Matt felt his spirits lifting, his confidence rebuilding from the ground up, and it was all because of this amazing girl before him. He crossed the stage, closing the distance between them, and brought her into his warm chest.

"I love you," he said. It was a shared sentiment that was always felt, rarely spoken.

"Like a volcano?" Sora asked with a smirk.

"Shut up."

She could feel the low, gentle rumble of laughter in his chest as she melted into the embrace. "Everything will be fine," she whispered into his shirt.

And for the first time all day, Matt kind of believed it.

* * *

 

**September 10th, 2015**

Tai flinched when he heard the whistle blow.

"Look sharp, Kamiya!" Coach yelled, gruff and intimidating, from the sidelines.

When it came to soccer, Tai's focus was usually nothing less than laser sharp, but as he dribbled down the field with an army of teammates nipping at his heels, he could feel his brain start to wander. Mimi's show was a mere two days away and — although he'd never, _ever_ admit it — his mind was a whirlwind of dance steps, song lyrics, and _which prop am I supposed to move stage right again?_

" _Kamiya_!"

Tai snapped to attention, but it was too late. Someone had already dived in front of his path, successfully stealing the ball away from his fumbling feet and traveling in the other direction. He didn't even have to turn around to know that a goal had been scored against his team. The whistle blew again and Tai followed the other players to the group huddle around their coach.

"That's all for today, boys," The tall, balding man announced. "Hit the showers."

"But Coach, we still have the field for another twenty minutes," someone near the front protested.

Suddenly, Tai felt the bitter, icy sting of a menacing glare. He glanced up to find Coach's narrowed eyes trained on him. "No use finishing the scrimmage if your team captain doesn't have his head in the game."

Tai tended to an imaginary itch on the back of his neck.

"Now _scram_ ," Coach ordered. "And next time don't even bother showing up if you aren't gonna play to _win_."

The team dispersed and Coach spared a final parting sneer before marching back to the athletic building, clipboard tucked under one arm. Tai watched until he was out of sight, then kicked childishly at the grass with an exasperated groan while he shuffled over to the bottom of the metal bleachers where he'd previously tossed his athletic bag. He took a long swig from his water bottle, letting the excess drip down his chin, when he heard the sound of footsteps clanking against metal.

"Well? Did you win?"

Tai whipped around to find Mimi — bundled up in a cream-colored peacoat and pink gloves — making her way down the bleachers. The jock frantically wiped at his chin with the back of his hand, but Mimi still managed a disgusted grimace.

"Uh, no — I mean — it was just a scrimmage, so —" Tai shook his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts. "What are you _doing_ here, Mimi?"

The girl shrugged flippantly. "I suppose I was just in the neighborhood."

Tai raised a brow.

"Oh, _fine_ ," she huffed, her gloved hands landing on her hips. "I _might_ have stopped by to watch you play — and wipe that obnoxious smirk off your face before your head gets any bigger than it already is with that bush you call hair!"

He was, indeed, smirking. "Can't get enough of me during rehearsals, huh?" He added a cheeky wink for good measure. "Am I _that_ irresistible?"

"Only if I found grass stains and smelling like a sweaty sock to be attractive," Mimi snapped defensively. "Which, for the record, I do _not_."

"Uh-huh. So if you didn't come all the way out here for _me_ , then…" Tai made a face. "Don't tell me you found a sudden interest in sports."

Mimi burst into laughter, high-pitched and deranged. "Don't be ridiculous. I saw you out there kicking all those touchdowns — it was simply barbaric!"

"Actually, they're called _goals_ …"

"What _ever,_ "she waved a dismissive hand, simultaneously tossing her hair over her shoulder. "And if you _must_ know — I came here to support you. There. Satisfied?"

Tai blinked stupidly. Mimi sighed.

"Since you've been attending my rehearsals with _minimal_ complaint for the past month, I thought it was only fair that I support _your_ endeavors, too. Even if it just so happens to be something as _boring_ as soccer."

A smile made its way onto Tai's face as her words began to sink in. The girl was bossy and terrifying, but — in her own unique way — this was a meaningful gesture. Her idea of an olive branch, even.

"Well, that's pretty decent of you, Mimi," the jock began. "But you got it all wrong. Soccer is anything but boring."

She rolled her big, brown eyes. "Oh, I beg to differ."

"Watching it, maybe. But playing it?" Tai was quick to grab Mimi's wrist, dragging her off the bleachers and onto the soft grass before she could protest. "Now _that's_ something you're gonna have to decide for yourself."

"Are you _crazy_?" Mimi squeaked as she watched — incredulously — Tai easily dribble the soccer ball closer. "Are you _actually_ mentally unsound?"

He couldn't help but laugh at the unfamiliar sight of Mimi standing, quite uncomfortably, on a soccer field. "Aw, c'mon. If you _really_ wanna support what I do, then you gotta get your hands dirty!"

"These gloves are _Ralph Lauren_ ," she argued.

"Not _literally_ , just…" Tai fought the urge to smack his forehead as he passed the ball — as gently as possible — over to Mimi. "Just one kick. That's all I ask."

The girl stared down at the ball as it slowly rolled toward her, coming to a halt when it bumped against the toe of her boots. "How anyone finds kicking a muddy ball around an empty field to be considered _fun_ is beyond me."

"Less complaining, more kicking," Tai grinned, jogging backwards until he was standing a few feet away from her, and clapped his hands together. "Gimme everything you got!"

After coming to the tragic realization that she couldn't just bitch-glare the ball into flying across the field, Mimi took a step back and kicked — nudged, really — the ball in Tai's direction. It rolled to a stop a few inches short of the jock's feet.

"What the hell was _that_?" He called out to the frowning girl.

"You told me to kick the ball!"

"Yeah, like a normal person would be nice," Tai walked forward and passed the ball back so that it rested by Mimi's feet once again. "Alright, I'm giving you another chance to redeem yourself. Use the side of your foot this time."

She whined petulantly. "Oh, this is _hopeless_."

"Is not," Tai countered. "You just gotta get a little more fired up. You know, like… pretend that someone is trying to steal your show!"

Immediately, Mimi's lips puckered dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, get mad about it!" He coaxed. "This random bitch is coming in here and singing all your songs!"

Her fists curled tightly by her side. Her eyebrows furrowed. Her blood boiled beneath her skin. Her intense gaze honed in on the soccer ball.

"And stealing your spotlight! She's even _wearing your costume_ —"

With a shrill battle cry, Mimi punted the ball with all the pent-up anger that her tiny body could safely contain. The ball spiraled through the air, hurling itself forward at an unimaginable pace.

It came to a stop only after bouncing off of Tai's face, effectively knocking the boy to the ground with a muted thud.

" _Ohmigod_ ," Mimi screeched, rushing over to where Tai lay in the grass, limbs sprawled and unmoving. She knelt beside him and hovered over his face, cheeks pink from exertion and eyes filled with panic. "Are you okay? Are you _alive_?"

Tai's eyelids fluttered open halfway, acting as the only indication that the soccer ball hadn't knocked the life out of him. "What…?"

Mimi waved a hand in front of his face. "Tai, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Sixteen."

"Well, you're either concussed or far worse at math than I thought you were."

The boy's mouth twitched once, twice, until he was halfway between wincing and smiling. "See?"

She waited.

"S'not boring at all."

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** Yolei is my homegirl and that's all there is to it. Normally I'd try to be a bit more eloquent with these author's notes, but writing this chapter pretty much sucked the soul out of me, so... I'm just gonna go drink some tea and binge-watch Friends. You know. Normal stuff.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Prepare yourselves for some crazy college kid shenanigans! This entire chapter takes place on the same night (the night of the show/after party), which is why I put the exact times for a little more clarity. ANYWAY, this chapter was extremely fun to write and I hope it's equally as enjoyable to read. See you on the other side, friends! ;)

 **About Us**  
Chapter 5

* * *

 

**September 12th, 2015 - 7:43pm**

"Hold _still_!"

"No."

"Oh, just quit being such a baby —"

" _No_!"

There was approximately fifteen minutes before the curtain would open on Mimi's Musical Revue Extravaganza, but rather than stretching or doing her thorough routine of vocal warmups, Mimi found herself cornering Tai in the backstage dressing room, armed with her weapons of choice: cream concealer and a powderpuff. The jock was defenseless, but that didn't keep him from attempting to ward her off with his flailing limbs.

"It's already embarrassing enough that I'm going through with this," he whined while shielding his face with his palms. "But there's no way in _hell_ I'm going out there with makeup on my face."

"Well, _I'm_ not going out there with a partner who has that disgusting monstrosity around his eye!"

"I didn't _ask_ you to sucker-punt a soccer ball at my face!"

Under normal circumstances, Mimi would never waste so much energy right before a performance, but when Tai Kamiya was involved, circumstances were hardly ever normal. She growled in a way that sounded more like a frisky kitten and launched herself forward. Tai was quick to grab her wrists, staving her off, but the petite girl fought back with all her might.

"You're being… completely… ridiculous!" Mimi spat through clenched teeth as she struggled against Tai's grasp.

"That makes two of us, princess," he sneered back.

With an offended huff, Mimi stamped down onto the top of Tai's foot with her three-inch high heels and the poor boy could've sworn he heard the gut-wrenching sound of crushing bone. He yelped loudly, an incomprehensible string of expletives falling from his mouth, as he tried to make a quick getaway. Tai was still holding onto Mimi's wrists when he tumbled, bringing the girl down with him as they hit the floor, hard.

Tai was too focused on his throbbing foot — and now, his throbbing _body_ — to notice that Mimi had effectively tackled him to the ground with surprising force. He was still muttering obscenities to no one in particular when the tiny brunette straddled his lap and pinned down his wrists on either side of his face, hovering so close over his helpless frame that the ends of her long, soft tresses dusted gently against his colored cheeks. Tai couldn't help but wonder what it might feel like to reach out and tuck those stray tresses behind her ear.

_Wait… What?_

"Um, am I interrupting something?"

The pair froze and looked up from their compromising position only to discover that the tentative voice had come from Sora. The redhead stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in her hand and a very wary expression on her face.

"No!" Tai exclaimed at the same time Mimi answered, " _Yes_ ".

Tai shot Mimi a look and — if she didn't know any better — she would've accused him of _blushing_.

"We're just, uh…" he managed to wriggle out from under Mimi's weight and scramble to his feet, plastering on a smile that was supposed to be convincing. "Rehearsing. You know. For the show."

"I didn't know it was _that_ kind of show," Sora teased.

Mimi's gaze zeroed in on the bouquet in Sora's hand as she got to her feet and dusted off the bottom of her dress. " _Ooh_! Are those for me?"

Sora glanced downward, as if suddenly remembering that she had been holding something in her hands. "For both of you, actually. From me and Matt. We wanted to wish you two good luck before you took the stage."

" _Aww_ ," Mimi cooed, rushing forward to envelop her friend in her slim but forceful arms. "Aren't you just the sweetest!"

"Speaking of," Tai piped up. "Where _is_ our favorite superstar?"

When Mimi pulled away to find a suitable spot for the flowers, Sora's expression had shifted. It was a look that she wore often whenever she was disappointed, but masking it with casual nonchalance. "He's at a publicity event with his band," she answered. "But he feels really bad that he can't be here to support you guys."

"Well, he _should_ ," Mimi pouted while examining her pristine manicure.

"Is he at least gonna grace us with his presence at the after party?" Tai asked.

Sora pulled another fake smile. "He said he'll try his best."

Despite her best efforts, a brief flicker of genuine disappointment poked through the cracks of her well-executed facade — and it certainly didn't go unnoticed by Tai's attentive gaze. He took a single, somber step forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry, Sora," he said in an octave that was meant for her ears alone.

But Mimi had an uncanny knack for hearing everything that she wasn't supposed to and, so, the petite girl perked up with a knowing and glossy-lipped smirk.

"It's fine, Tai, really," Sora dismissed his sympathy with a resolute head shake. "I better go find my seat, though. I don't want to keep you two from your… rehearsing."

Tai grimaced. Mimi giggled.

She wished them luck one more time and then fled the dressing room. Mimi waited until the sound of her footsteps disappeared down the hallway before aiming a smug grin in Tai's direction.

"What?" He demanded when he began to feel her gaze trained on his unsuspecting face.

"Could you be any more obvious?"

" _What_?" Tai repeated defensively. "She's my _friend_ and she was kinda upset so I just… never mind. Doesn't matter. Let's just do this thing."

Mimi, thoroughly unconvinced, held up the powderpuff and concealer that was still waiting inconspicuously in her hands.

"Yes, _let's_."

* * *

 

**September 12th, 2015 - 10:49pm**

When Kari arrived to the party, she was overcome with the sensation that she was being watched. It was a ridiculous thought, she knew. There were dozens of classmates and friends crammed into the tiny apartment — it wasn't very likely that they had all turned their attention on her at once. Still, the young girl found herself blushing when she walked through the front door. Maybe she was simply flushed from the over-crowded room. Maybe she was embarrassed to be one of the few freshmen in attendance.

Or maybe it had something to do with the way Davis tagged along beside her, arm slung comfortably around her shoulders.

To her left, Kari spotted a group of upperclassmen pouring drinks in the kitchen. To her right was the couch where a slightly tipsy Yolei was flirting shamelessly with Izzy, who looked as if he wanted to just disappear between the cushions. Kari sighed. This was all Yolei's fault. It seemed that the purple-haired girl had taken an interest in setting up Kari and Davis at every opportunity she could find — and when Kari decided to ask her roommate about her intentions, the response had been honest and blunt.

"Hanging out with another guy is the perfect way to get under an ex-boyfriend's skin."

Kari had scrunched her nose up with skepticism. "Don't you think that's a little unfair to Davis? You can't just use someone like that."

"He's not someone — he's _Davis_ ," Yolei had rolled her eyes behind her large glasses. "You wanna get back at TK? What better way than to make him _jealous_?"

Yolei's evil scheme _did_ make some sense, but that didn't prevent Kari's conscience from flashing a warning every time she was in Davis' overzealous presence.

"Check us out, huh? Hangin' with the _upperclassmen_ ," Davis beamed as his eyes scanned the room. "Want me to go snag us some drinks?"

"Sure," Kari replied distractedly.

The spiky-haired freshman retracted his arm and bounded toward the kitchen. Kari's eyes followed him for a while, watching as he approached the group of older athletes, chatting them up with what he probably thought was suaveness. She returned her attention to the living room, where the sea of faces and bodies seemed to blur into one.

And that's when she noticed a distinct, beanie'd head bobbing its way toward her through the crowd.

Kari stole a desperate glance back at Davis, who was still busying himself with his newfound audience. Then she looked toward Yolei, who was now leaning her head on Izzy's shoulder and laughing unattractively. There was limited opportunity for an escape plan. And by the time Kari came to this depressing conclusion, TK was already standing before her, grinning pleasantly with a cup in hand.

"You made it!" He chirped. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Kari stiffened. Of _course_ he'd been waiting for her to arrive. "Well, we didn't want to be the first ones here."

TK's lip twitched, as if beginning to frown, but catching himself. "We?"

As if on cue, Davis skidded over to the pair, reclaiming his spot by Kari's side. "I didn't know what you wanted so I just kinda mixed a bunch of stuff together. Smells pretty nasty, but I think it's gonna taste —" He suddenly acknowledged TK's presence with narrowed eyes. "… What're _you_ doing here, TJ?"

"My brother lives here," TK answered plainly. "And I was invited."

Kari took a sudden interest in the floor beneath her feet.

"Well, whoop-dee-doo for you," Davis deadpanned rather sharply before handing one of the red cups to Kari. She took it without looking up.

TK's brow furrowed beneath his blond fringe as he watched the exchange. "Kari doesn't drink," he announced — seemingly — to Kari rather than Davis.

"What're you, some kinda babysitter?" The dark-haired boy spat.

"She doesn't drink at parties," TK continued, ignoring Davis. "She'd much rather make sure all her friends made it home safe at the end of the night. Right, Kari?"

Kari could feel both of their gazes trained on her lowered head. She hated that TK was right. And she hated that he was making her admit it, too.

After a few unbearably silent seconds, Davis nudged her with his elbow. "I can go grab you, like, a soda or somethin'…"

"No, thank you," she finally looked up, shaking her head in Davis' direction. "I'm fine with this, Davis, it's okay."

She could hear TK clear his throat as she brought the cup to her lips, resisting the urge to gag from the strong odor. But not a single drop reached her mouth before the blond surged forward, snatching the cup right out of her hand.

"Kari, c'mon —" he began.

"Hey, what's the big idea, buddy?!" Davis growled.

Kari spun on her heel and hurried out the door before either one of them could stop her.

* * *

 

**September 12th, 2015 - 11:23pm**

**SORA [unsent]:** Wish you were here. It's been a while since we've  
 **SORA [unsent]:** How much longer do you think you'll  
 **SORA:** Any chance you can still make it here tonight?

Her thumb hovered over the send button, certainty and doubt waging a war inside her head. Certainty, however, took the final blow and Sora heard the telltale _blip_ of a successfully delivered text message. She stared at the dimly lit screen, her foot tapping anxiously against the linoleum tile of the bathroom, but nothing changed. A sigh escaped her lips as she tucked her phone away. One minute passed and she was removing it again, checking the blank screen with a frown.

Sora could hear the muffled chatter and laughter of the party still taking place on the other side of the door. Hiding herself away in the bathroom, obsessing over text messages, wasn't how she envisioned spending her evening, but it was becoming too difficult to fake a smile in front of her friends. The redhead splayed her palms out on either side of the sink and challenged her reflection in the mirror to a staring contest.

 _He probably doesn't even have his phone on right now_ , she reminded herself. _Give him some space_.

The doorknob rattled and Sora whipped around just in time to witness Mimi stumbling into the small room, bringing with her a flurry of perfume and sweet-smelling alcohol. The girl was digging through her purse, muttering a few frustrated words under her breath, and jumped when she finally noticed her roommate standing in front of the sink.

"Hey there, chickadee," Mimi greeted, shutting the door behind her to seal them away from the commotion once again.

"Oh, hey, Meems," Sora waved awkwardly. "What are you doing in here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," a brunette eyebrow rose tauntingly as she wiggled her way up to the counter, leaning closer to get a better look at her flushed complexion in the mirror. "There's a party going on out there, you know," Mimi gave the strands of hair framing her delicate face a good fluff. "More importantly, a party to celebrate _me_."

Sora took a seat on the closed toilet lid and smiled ruefully. "And Tai."

Her hand was waved in casual dismissal. "The _point_ is that you need to go have some fun, with or without a boyfriend on your arm," Mimi backed away from the mirror and turned her full attention on Sora, arms crossed. "As the guest of honor, I _forbid_ you to mope."

"I know," Sora conceded, staring downward at the phone still gripped tightly in her hand. "I know it's silly to get so upset just because Matt can't make it to a party, but…" Her voice dropped to a slightly lower octave as the strength inside her deflated like an old balloon. "He's just been so busy this whole week with all his events, and gigs, and recording the demo. I was kind of hoping that tonight would be — I don't know — different somehow. That's all."

She glanced up to find that Mimi's accusing glare had softened. The brunette was nothing but gentle and sympathetic as she suggested, "I can yell at him if you want."

Sora couldn't help the small chuckle that blossomed in her throat. "I appreciate the offer, Mimi, but it's okay. I don't really think that scaring him for life is the solution I'm looking for."

Mimi's chestnut eyes brightened with inspiration and she began rifling through her purse yet again. "Well, luckily, I have another solution right here," From within the depths of her bag, Mimi removed the item she'd been searching for when she first staggered through the doorway — a small golden tube — which she wiggled between her fingers.

"You, Miss Sora, are going to get off your cute little butt, put on this lipstick, go out there and _enjoy_ yourself."

The redhead appeared skeptical, but amused, nonetheless. "Lipstick is your big solution?"

"My _favorite_ lipstick, thank you very much," Mimi knelt before her friend, who was still slumped forward on the toilet lid, and began painting her lips with practiced precision. "It'll give you confidence. I got my very first kiss while wearing this lipstick, you know."

"Michael What's-his-name?" Sora recalled, trying to avoid moving her lips as much as possible.

"Oh, he was _gorgeous_ ," Mimi swooned at the memory. "But the poor thing slobbered like a bulldog."

The girls immediately broke into a rousing fit of giggles.

Their amusement eventually subsided and Mimi finished the final touches on Sora's lips in quiet concentration. When she leaned back to admire her handiwork with a smile, Sora returned the gesture.

"Thanks, Mimi."

"Oh, please. You know how much I adore giving makeovers. This will have to do for now," she stood, dragging Sora up with her, and led the girl over to the mirror.

A startled, red-lipped beauty stared back at Sora through the mirror. Mimi, beaming with pride, appeared over her shoulder.

"And it just so happens that this color almost looks better on you than it does on me," she preened a bit and puckered her own lips, which were colored with an identical shade. " _Almost_."

The tiny bathroom was, once again, filled with their shared laughter.

* * *

 

**September 12th, 2015 - 11:05pm**

Kari made it out of the apartment, down the hallway, and fled the building before realizing that she didn't know where she was going. Davis had given her a ride to the party and walking home at night, alone, was out of the question. So, with a huff, she took a seat on the stone staircase in front of the apartment complex.

Behind her, the door creaked open.

"Davis, I'm fine," she started. "I just needed some fresh air."

"You really think he'd buy that?"

Kari looked over her shoulder to find TK standing on the top step, peering down at her with a ghost of a smile.

"I mean, I know he's not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I think most people can tell when you're lying," he added.

"TK," Kari sighed as she drew her knees closer her chest. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Please."

"I know," he said, slowly taking a seat beside her. Kari tensed. "You haven't wanted to talk to me ever since we bumped into each other that day," he paused. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because _why_ , Kari?"

Yolei's advice began ringing in her ears. _Ferocity_. "TK…"

"Kari."

"Just… _Back off, buddy!_ "

TK blinked, dumbfounded, as Kari got to her feet.

"I don't want to talk to you — I don't want to be _around_ you at all — because it's _easier_ that way! Why can't you understand? We broke up, TK. You can't just waltz back into my life and pretend that nothing happened! I've been trying to move on, but you make it _impossible_ whenever you just show up! We can't just go back to the way things were, it doesn't _work_ like that!"

Kari felt slightly lightheaded after her tirade. She drew in a long, steadying breath before settling her fervid gaze on TK — who appeared to be _smiling_.

"Feel better?" He asked.

"A little."

As quickly as it had appeared, TK's grin began to fade again. He wrung his fingers together with uncertainty, then took a stand to come face to face with the girl.

"Look, Kari, I'm not trying to ignore everything that happened," his tone lost its usual trace of playfulness. In its place, raw vulnerability. "I know what happened. It kinda… destroyed me, to be honest. You didn't return any of my calls the whole summer. We didn't even get a chance to _talk_ about it. I guess… I wanted to say I was sorry — for rushing things or for blurting out the first thing that pops into my head. It's okay if you were scared, Kari. I just didn't want it to ruin everything between us," he released a breath. "So I don't want to go back to the way things were. I just want to start over. As friends."

Although she wished it did, her response didn't require much thought.

"Friends," she repeated, mulling over the word as it left her mouth. "Okay."

TK was grinning as he moved forward to wrap her up in a tight embrace.

"TK…?" Kari muttered, taken aback.

He promptly shushed her. "Friends hug, Kari. Get over it."

* * *

 

**September 13th, 2015 - 12:33am**

"What're you drinking, beautiful?"

The smooth, playful tenor came from behind Mimi as she stepped into the kitchen. She spun around, eyebrow quirked without a trace of amusement — because any boy who thought _that_ was his best line didn't deserve much of her attention.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Mimi chirped as the rim of her red solo cup rested against her pouty bottom lip.

Willis — the boy in question — was clearly undeterred. The corners of his mouth appeared to be perpetually curled upward in an impish smirk, which usually had flocks of girls swooning, but Mimi was a bit too crafty to fall for his boyish charm. However, that never seemed to keep him from trying.

"Actually, I really would," he shuffled a little closer and Mimi, in turn, took a few steps back. "Because then I could offer to get you a refill, maybe ask you to dance with me…"

Mimi stood her ground. "I'm flattered, really, but —"

" — But she already agreed to dance with me."

The girl's head snapped to the side so quickly that the ends of her hair whipped Willis in the face. Tai suddenly appeared on Mimi's left, calm and vigilant as he slurped loudly from his own red cup.

Willis looked to Mimi, then to Tai, then back again. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"'Fraid not," Tai shrugged easily and draped an arm around Mimi's tiny shoulders. She, surprisingly, didn't shake him off. "Sorry, dude. Better luck next time."

With a final, perplexed glance between the two, Willis turned and disappeared amongst the throngs of partygoers. Mimi watched until he was out of sight, then looked over at Tai, who was all puffed up with pride.

"Hey, that was easy, right?" He commented brightly.

Mimi, finally coming to her senses, gave her shoulders a shimmy until Tai's arm flopped back to his side. "Or maybe he's just running away from your repulsive whiskey breath," she jeered.

"I think the words you're looking for are _you're welcome_ ," Tai chuckled.

Mimi took one look at the boy's smug expression and kept her mouth shut, taking care to avoid those words like the plague. Instead, she straightened her spine, aiming her nose at the air. "I could've handled that on my own, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

She didn't dare to glance his way, but she could still feel his mischievous eyes trained on her. Mimi busied herself with finishing off the last few gulps of her vodka cranberry in silence, but Tai remained where he was — leaning against the edge of the countertop. The song blasting through the speakers came to an end, but the playlist automatically jumped to the next selection without so much as a hesitation. The bass pounded like a steady heartbeat straight through Mimi's chest as she gazed out into the living room. The furniture had been pushed to the side, creating space for a makeshift dance floor, which is where a majority of the party guests had congregated. They swayed and bounced and moved to the music like a human tidal wave.

"So," Mimi spoke up over the blaring music. "Are you actually going to ask me to dance or not?"

When she finally caved and stole a look at Tai, he was beaming victoriously. "I dunno," he began with exaggerated hesitance. "I mean, I wouldn't wanna offend you with my whiskey breath or anything…"

Mimi promptly set her empty cup on the counter, grabbed onto Tai's wrist, and hauled him toward the living room. She could hear him chortling quietly from behind, which would've grated on her nerves much more intensely had she been in a clearer state of mind. But after her second drink, she was already experiencing some of the repercussions.

For such a tiny thing, she certainly knew how to push and shove her way to the middle of the dance floor. Partygoers seemed to part like the Red Sea as she delivered her curt _excuse me_ 's and whether it was from courtesy or fear, Tai wasn't entirely sure. He just followed, still being towed along like baggage, until they were both completely surrounded by gyrating bodies.

Then, without warning, he felt Mimi press back into his chest. She moved her hips against his own, letting the pulse of the music act as her guide, and that's when he finally took the hint. Tai followed her lead and moved with her rhythm, daring his free hand to rest against the side of her waist. He wandered downward, traveling over the curve of her hips and upper thighs, warmth resonating through his fingertips like tiny flames. Mimi lifted a hand to run through her hair, tossing the silky tresses over one shoulder to reveal the porcelain expanse of her exposed neck. Tai pulled her closer.

Time passed, supposedly, but for how long, neither of them were quite sure. They lost themselves amidst the chaos of the dance floor, eager hands sliding against heated skin. Mimi craned her head around, stealing a side glance at Tai through thick, billowy lashes. A shiver ran through her spine when their eyes locked, filled to the brim with fire and want. She blamed the alcohol. Tai's vision was slightly hazed, but that didn't keep him from staring at her enticing lips, his mind flooded with the desire to know exactly how they taste. He, too, blamed the alcohol.

A sharp elbow to the back broke Tai from his trance. He lurched forward, disturbing their rhythm and, simultaneously, the plastic cup that was still balancing in his other hand. The cup toppled over, spilling its dark, pungent contents down Mimi's dress. The girl gasped and leapt to the side, which interrupted another dancing couple, but she couldn't bother to apologize when she had whiskey soaking into her dress.

"Oh my _god_!" She screeched. "It's ruined!"

Ruined, indeed. Whatever strange and alcohol-induced moment they had been sharing on the dance floor was now a mere memory as Mimi's furious gaze pierced through Tai's bewildered expression.

"Wait, Mimi —" the jock tried, grabbing her hand before she could storm off the dance floor. "C'mon, you need a change of clothes."

Although she resisted for a while, Mimi allowed Tai to navigate them out of the rowdy crowd and into his bedroom.

* * *

 

**September 13th, 2015 - 1:17am**

**MATT:** Heeeeey Matt's girlfriend! Matt can't come to the phone right now, try again later when he's not drsjbdhjgdhgfs  
 **MATT:** Ignore him. He's drunk.  
 **MATT:** Sorry, babe, but I'm kinda caught up over here. Probably won't make it tonight. Talk tomorrow?

* * *

 

**September 13th, 2015 - 1:20am**

Tai flopped backwards onto his bed with a groan that was almost louder than the uneasy creak of his mattress. He'd been staring at the blank wall across from him for a while now, and patience had never been one of his strong suits.

"The party's gonna be over by the time you're done in there, Mimi," he complained to the ceiling.

A response came in the form of agitated mumbling, incomprehensible and muffled from behind the closet door.

"What'd you say?" Tai asked.

"I _said_ that you are going to _pay_ for this."

Mimi's voice was loud and clear that time around. The closet door squeaked open to reveal the girl in nothing but an oversized shirt that hung loosely on her figure like a burlap sack. Her arms were crossed, her lips were pouted, and her eyes were filled with fury.

Tai sat up when he heard the door, his eyes raking over her new outfit. "Looks good."

"Looks good?" Mimi repeated incredulously. She held out her arms to showcase just how ill-fitted the shirt was to her petite frame. "I'm wearing a men's flannel shirt to a _party_!"

"Is that really all you care about? Looking good at a party?" Tai got to his feet and motioned wildly to the closed bedroom door behind him. "More than half the people out there are trashed out of their minds — they won't even remember what you're wearing!"

Mimi huffed loudly, sending a strand of hair flying away from her face. "Ugh, you are such a _boy_."

Tai scoffed, his eyes narrowing to prepare for battle. "You're such a _girl_."

"You're so insensitive!"

"You're so vain!"

"You're the most infuriating person I've ever met!"

"Well, you're a brat!"

"And you're a… _scumbag_!"

"Scumbag? Really, that's the best you can do?"

"Shut up!"

" _You_ shut up!"

It happened at the same time. They both took two long strides toward each other, meeting in the middle, and crushed their lips together in a primal frenzy. Hands were everywhere — tangled in hair, sliding against skin, pulling at clothes. Mimi managed to hook her fingers under the hem of Tai's shirt, yanking it up and over his head until it dropped uselessly to the floor. Meanwhile, the boy's anxious hands worked on the buttons of the flannel shirt so that it, too, slid off her shoulders, discarded.

They broke apart, breathing heavy in each other's faces, gazes locked in a lust-blown stare.

"We're drunk," Mimi whispered.

"I know."

Her palm slid down the front of his bare chest.

"This isn't a very good idea."

His hand teased along her thigh.

"I know."

Mimi's breath hitched.

"We might end up regretting this in the morning."

"I know," Tai leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together. "But right now I don't give a shit."

They grappled for another kiss, rough and electric, as they fell backwards onto the bed.

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** Well. That happened.

See you all next time?

P.S. Thanks to everyone for being awesome and reviewing! I'm giving you all virtual hugs. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** YES, I'M STILL ALIVE. Sorry, everyone, didn't mean to leave you at a cliff hanger like that, but life just... happens. At the worst times. Always. _Ugh_. But I'm back! And I'm still writing! Please enjoy the next chapter!

 **About Us**  
Chapter 6

* * *

 

**April 12th, 2015**

The Kamiya household was pitch dark when Kari quietly crept through the front door. It was well past midnight and her parents always went to bed early and, for that, she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to worry her family over her personal turmoil.

But her plan was foiled when the living room lamp flickered to life.

Kari spun around, startled to find her brother lounging on the couch beneath the lamp's dim glow. He appeared a bit disgruntled, as if he'd just awoken from a deep sleep, which he probably had. Now that he was home from college for spring break, Tai had rekindled his old habit of following through with his brotherly duties — namely, waiting up for Kari until she had safely made it home.

"And where have _you_ been, young lady?" Tai interrogated, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "It's way past your —"

His eyes began adjusting to the dull light and, finally, he got a good look at his sister's tear-stained face.

"Kari?" He jumped to his feet, snapping to attention. "What happened? What's wrong?"

She shook her head and sniffled. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're the worst liar I've ever met," Tai stated firmly. "I can tell that you're crying."

"It's none of your business."

"I'm your big brother and you just came home at one-thirty in the morning in _tears_. So it's _totally_ my business!"

Kari made a beeline for the staircase. "You need to stop babying me, Tai!"

"Was it TK?" He asked abruptly.

The younger Kamiya froze on the first step, fingers hovering above the handrail. She didn't look at him when she replied, "Why… Why would you think that?"

A long, weary sigh flew past Tai's mouth as he sauntered closer to the stairs. "Because I go to college now, so I know the difference between a girl's I-want-attention cry, the holy-shit-I'm-so-drunk cry, and…" his tone dropped to a more sullen octave. "The some-guy-ripped-my-heart-out cry."

Kari didn't respond, but it was enough of a confirmation for Tai. He sprung into action, all traces of previous exhaustion having vanished, and stomped over to the front door with fire blazing in his eyes. "That's it — where did that little punk go? I'll show him what happens when he messes with —"

"Tai, stop, it wasn't him!" Kari chased him down and grabbed his arm before he could reach the doorknob. "It… It was me."

He was distracted from his own tirade when he heard those words, though he couldn't help but wonder if it was just his sweet, selfless sister's way of protecting TK's mistakes. Still, Tai was curious enough to pause, turn toward her, and furrow his brow. "What do you mean?"

"TK told me that he loves me," It was evident in Kari's strangled voice that it wasn't an easy fact to admit. "And I didn't say it back. I _couldn't_. He just walked away looking so sad and… hurt. I think I broke his heart, Tai, and I never wanted to do that."

Tai stared blankly, unmoving, with his usually tanned skin draining to a paler shade. For a moment, Kari wondered if this might've been too much information about her love life for her big brother to handle.

"… He… He said _what_?" Tai demanded at long last. "With his own mouth?"

"No, Tai, he obviously said it with his _nose_."

Kari was able to elicit her sarcastic reply before wandering over to the couch and plopping herself down into the cushions, miserably. She leaned over, burying her face into the top of her thighs, and sniffed back a fresh round of tears.

"Well…" Tai began uneasily. He made his way to the couch as well, taking a seat beside his sister. "How come you didn't say it back? I thought you two were, like — you know — a serious _thing_."

"We were," she mumbled. "I mean, we _are_. I mean… I don't know what I mean. Everything was fine until he said that and now everything feels different," she brought her head up, looking at Tai with big, watery eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with _you_ , Kari," he said immediately. "You just don't love him."

"But why don't I?" Kari sniffled. "He's TK. He's my best friend, my _person_. If I love anyone, it should be him. I don't know why I can't just say those stupid little words."

Tai snorted. "You're seventeen. Hell, I'm _twenty_ and I don't think I could say that to someone. You're just not ready yet, Kari," he snaked an arm around his sister's shoulders and pulled her into his side with a sigh. "So… what now?"

"I don't know," Kari confessed into the sleeve of Tai's shirt.

"I kinda wish I had something — I dunno — _wiser_ to say other than 'boys suck and you shouldn't date them until you're thirty', but…"

Kari chuckled. "It's okay, Tai. I'm just glad you're here."

"Always will be, sis."

* * *

 

**September 13th, 2015**

Tai was not woken up by the pale strips of sunlight peeking through his window blinds. He wasn't even disturbed by the way the covers had mysteriously vanished from his side of the bed entirely. Rather, it was the throbbing ache of a hangover pounding out a rhythmless beat against the inside of his skull that stole him away from his slumber. He groaned into his pillow, belly-down on the mattress.

"Holy _fuck_ ," came his muffled whine. "What's happening to me? Is my head exploding? Is this what dying feels like? Am I gonna —"

From beside him, something — some _one_ , rather — reached over and swatted him on the back.

"Oh my _god_ , do you ever stop _talking_?"

Tai lifted his head so quickly that his vision began to blur. He was still adjusting to the dizziness when he glanced over at the other end of the bed, but he could distinctly make out that petite frame curled up tightly in the bedsheets, long hair draped over the pillow and her enticingly bare shoulders.

 _Mimi_.

Hazy memories from the previous night started pouring into his mind like an open floodgate. Wandering hands, desperate and needy, gasps and moans breathing hotly against bare skin, bodies pressing closer, closer, _closer_ …

Tai still felt dizzy when he stuttered, "We… We… I…"

"Oh, good," Mimi rolled over to face him. "Did someone finally take out your batteries?"

"Mimi, this is _serious_ ," Tai continued. "We _actually_ _hooked up_ last night."

The girl sighed agitatedly. "So kind of you to point out the obvious," she squeezed her eyes shut once again. "Now if you'll excuse me — some of us would like to get back to _sleep_."

"You wanna _sleep_ at a time like _this_?!"

Mimi's eyes flew open and she sat up with a huff, keeping the blankets pulled to her chest. "Do _not_ treat this as if it's some terrible tragedy. If I remember correctly, you weren't exactly _unenthusiastic_ last night."

Tai opened his mouth to argue, but promptly closed it again. She wasn't wrong.

Suddenly, the sound of familiar voices from somewhere within the apartment dragged him back to reality and presented him with an entirely new set of obstacles — his _roommates_. Tai shot out of bed like a rocket, stumbling around his room to gather up the first articles of clothing he could find on the floor. Mimi watched with an arched brow.

He clumsily stepped into a pair of sweatpants. "Okay, here's the plan —"

"The _plan_?"

"You stay here and get dressed," Tai panted as he pulled a t-shirt over his bushy hair, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the door. "I'm gonna go out there and distract the guys, and when the coast is clear, you sneak out the door and get the hell outta here without anyone seeing. Got it?"

Mimi's jaw dropped open. "You're keeping me locked up in here like some kind of _pet_? Are you _that_ ashamed of what happened?"

"Yes. I absolutely am," Tai answered dryly. "Now _stay_ … Good girl."

" _Ugh_ , you little —"

Tai slipped out the door right before Mimi hurled a pillow at his head.

The voices became louder and more distinct once Tai stepped out of his room. He could smell eggs cooking and coffee brewing, but it did nothing to calm his knotted stomach. After a deep breath, Tai shuffled into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by a round of applause from Matt.

"Morning, tiger," the blond smirked.

Tai, not knowing what else to do, took a small, awkward bow in the doorway.

"Good thing I crashed at Akira's place last night," Matt went on as he pushed some scrambled eggs around in the frying pan. "Because these guys told me that our room was strictly _off-limits_."

Izzy and Joe — the guys in question — sat at the countertop on either side of Matt. Izzy seemed too fixated by his laptop to respond, but Joe cleared his throat nervously into his coffee mug.

"It seemed like the right thing to do if we wanted to avoid any… _uncomfortable_ situations," the medical student muttered.

"Yes, because uncomfortable situations around this apartment are simply _unheard_ of," Izzy added with plenty of sarcasm, still clicking away at his keyboard without missing a beat.

"So," Matt segued with a devious glimmer in his eye that made Tai want to run back into his room. "Are you gonna tell us who the poor girl was?"

Tai froze. He hadn't actually thought of a decent alibi yet and, so, he panicked.

"It's not important!" He bellowed, throwing his hands in the air and forcing a grin that looked more painful than it did genuine. "I mean, _details_ , right? Who needs 'em? The point is that it happened, it was _awesome_ , and not all awesome things need to be shared with the public — or with _anyone_ , for that matter, right?" Tai leaned an elbow on the doorframe and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Is it hot in here or is it just me? Is anyone else sweating?"

Izzy, Joe, and Matt exchanged a look.

"Hey!" Tai piped up again, nearly startling the spatula right out of Matt's hand. "Forget all this food — let's all go out for breakfast! You know, enjoying the beautiful day outside, some good 'ol roommate bonding time, _leaving the apartment_ … My treat!"

"Uh… Okay," Matt glanced down at his frying pan, then back up at his friend. "Tai, are you sure you're —"

"Eating out for breakfast? What a lovely idea!"

Everything in the apartment came to a screeching halt as soon as Mimi pranced toward the kitchen in nothing but Tai's oversized flannel. She paused beside him in the doorway, grinning dazzlingly, and reached up a hand to cup the bottom of Tai's chin with exaggerated affection.

"Thank you _so_ much for suggesting it, Taichi. _And_ for offering to pay. You're just so _sweet_ ," she turned to the other gawking roommates. "Isn't he so sweet, boys?"

"The sweetest," Izzy choked out, finally looking up from his laptop screen.

Mimi planted her fists on her hips. "Well, are we going to get this show on the road or are we going to sit around staring at each other?" She hummed happily. "After last night, I'm just _famished_."

Joe gagged on his mouthful of coffee out of pure shock, spraying some of the liquid onto the countertop. Mimi waltzed innocently into the kitchen, ignoring the blatant stares, and snatched the mug right out of Joe's hands.

"Joe, honey, that really is unattractive," she commented, bringing the mug to her lips for a sip. "There's a _lady_ present, you know."

"Oh, we _know_ ," Matt murmured under his breath, stealing a glance at Tai.

"Shall we?" Mimi chirped. "You all go pull the car around while I freshen up a bit."

Everyone kept staring.

Mimi snapped her fingers impatiently. "Boys. I said _shall we_?"

Izzy, Joe, and Matt jumped to attention, scuttling about the kitchen while they discarded their unfinished breakfasts into the sink, then made a mad dash for the front door.

"I'll be ready in just a bit," she called out after them, spinning on her heel and strutting out of the kitchen. She passed by Tai, who was leaning back against the doorframe for support, not daring to move an inch from the moment Mimi left his room. He watched her with wide, unblinking eyes, and she met his gaze with the sweetest smile she could muster.

Only after the front door shut securely did her expression shift into one of utter defiance. A silent challenge. A silent _victory_. With that, she skipped her way back into Tai's room.

* * *

 

**September 24th, 2015**

"Alright, everyone, listen up!"

When Catherine Deneuve, editor-in-chief of the campus newspaper, demanded attention, it was best to obey. Kari looked up from the photo collage she'd been mulling over atop her work station and found a fuming Catherine marching to the front of the room. The young brunette snuck a sideways glance at TK, who responded with a subtle shoulder shrug. It appeared that he, too, was caught off guard by Catherine's ensuing rampage.

In Catherine's hand was a damp, crumpled paper and she was lifting it up like a tribal sacrifice. "Can anyone tell me what this is?"

From the back of the room, someone bravely broke the silence with a meek response of, "Our September issue?"

"Correct," Catherine dropped it unceremoniously onto her desk with a wet thud. "And does anyone know where I _found_ it?"

This time, nobody dared to speak up, so Catherine continued.

"On the floor of the girl's bathroom, absorbing the excess water _of a clogged toilet_."

TK's nose crinkled in disgust. "And you still decided to _touch_ it?"

"I had to make a _point_ ," the editor snapped. "And that point is that students would rather sop up their messes with our paper than actually _read_ it."

"Look at the bright side," Cody, a young freshman, chimed hesitantly. "If you found it in the bathroom, then that means someone had to've picked up a copy from the newsstand."

Catherine pinched the bridge of her nose with a sharp sigh. "I am going to pretend you didn't just say that."

"What's the big deal, anyway?" TK interrupted before Catherine's bubbling agitation could escalate into full-blown rage on poor Cody. "Since when does anyone read the school paper? Our issues have probably been absorbing dirty toilet water for years, so why do we suddenly care what people think?"

The entire newspaper staff directed their eyes toward TK, dumbfounded by his courage — or stupidity, Kari thought — for talking back to a semi-hysterical Catherine. But TK was unaffected. He met the editor's piercing glare as he waited for an answer. Her muscles were tensed, as if she might leap over her desk and tackle the young writer at any moment, but, to everyone's shock, she surrendered. Catherine dropped down into her chair, elbows propped on her desktop and eyes buried behind her hands, hair falling like wavy blonde curtains around her face.

"I wasn't going to announce it just yet, but…" Catherine mumbled. "I got an email from the Dean. Apparently if we don't start improving our readership by the end of the year, he's going to cut the newspaper."

Kari hadn't been expecting the uproar that followed Catherine's announcement. She twitched in her seat as the other students jumped to their feet and cried out their protests like an angry mob preparing for attack.

"That's absurd! Don't _we_ get a say in this? I ought to —"

" —completely unfair! He can't silence our voices just so he can —"

TK's voice managed to cut through the commotion. "What? But he can't just do that!"

"Of course he can," Catherine countered, lifting her head from her palms. "No Dean in their right mind would ever fund a newspaper that nobody even _reads_."

"Then we'll _make_ people wanna read it," he stated firmly.

An upperclassman named Willis scoffed from his work station, "And how are we supposed to do that? You said it yourself — the paper's been a bust for _years_."

Again, TK had managed to garner the room's attention as they awaited his brilliant plan. The blond had always been a bit too optimistic for his own good, Kari recalled, and she, like everyone else, was curious as to how he expected to pull the newspaper from the depths of social anonymity. There was a brief pause as the gears inside TK's head turned round and round, and he snapped his fingers when it finally came to him.

"That's because we've been too cautious," he whipped around to address Willis and, eventually, the entire staff. "I mean, the most exciting story we've ever published was about the salmonella scare in the campus cafeteria. We have to start writing to our audience. We have to start writing about things that our fellow students are _actually_ going to be _interested_ in —"

"Sounds simply _groundbreaking_ , TK," Catherine folded her arms across her chest with skepticism. "But what's going on around campus that's going to create _that_ much hype?"

The boy flashed her a wide, saucy grin. "Why, my own flesh and blood, of course. More specifically — the rising fame of The Teenaged Wolves. It just so happens that I have an in with the dreamy frontman himself."

Willis piped up again, seemingly determined to wallow in the group's defeat. "Using your brother's popularity to revive the school paper? I thought nepotism was generally frowned upon."

"You call it nepotism, and _I_ call it using our resources," said TK. "I dare anyone on campus to walk by an issue of our newspaper with Matt's face on the front page without picking up a copy."

Willis didn't have a biting retort this time because he knew that TK was right. Everyone did. The band's popularity was quickly reaching celebrity status among the student body and a juicy exposé would surely fly off the shelves. Still, Catherine seemed wary — most likely due to her control-freak nature and the fact that running this story would mean handing over partial control to TK.

"Well…" She trailed off.

"This story could save the paper," TK was quick to remind her. "No paper means no editor-in-chief. And no editor-in-chief means you can kiss that New York Times internship goodbye."

That was all it took for Catherine to puff out her chest, straighten her spine, and stare down TK with eyes that could cool down the wrath of Hell. The blond boy continued to smile. " _Fine_ ," she finally conceded through gritted teeth. "But do you seriously expect to publish this so-called masterpiece on your own?"

"Don't be ridiculous," TK chuckled and flickered his eyes to the left. "I'm gonna team up with Kari."

Kari, who was perfectly content remaining invisible in her seat, was suddenly the center of attention. With rosy cheeks, she glanced around the room at the perplexed staff members, saving TK for last.

"Me?" She squeaked.

"Why not?" He wondered. "You're friends with Matt and take all the band's publicity shots already, so it just makes sense."

Catherine promptly interjected, "In case you're forgetting, Kari is only our _stand-in_ photographer. It wouldn't be fair to ask that much of her when —"

"I don't mind," the words left Kari's mouth before she could even grasp what she was saying. "Really, I don't. I'm happy to help out if it means you can keep the paper running."

The editor wordlessly drew in her bottom lip while TK exclaimed, "Hah! Then it's settled."

Kari didn't know what to do once the room started buzzing again with newfound enthusiasm. She could still feel Catherine's steely gaze fixed on her, along with a few other stares from more hesitant types like Willis. She began gathering up her photos, slipping them back into the manilla envelope, all while trying to remain calm.

"Back to work, everyone — show's over!" Catherine barked, regaining her previous air of authority as she rose quickly from her chair. The staff members returned to their various tasks just as she added a curt, "TK, Kari."

The pair looked up.

"That story needs to be on my desk, ready to go, before winter break. And it better be damn spectacular."

With a terrifying flip of her blonde hair, Catherine stormed past their desks and left the room. Kari watched her retreating back, blinking her eyes like a startled animal caught in headlights. She didn't tear her gaze away until she heard a throat clear beside her. Undoubtedly, it was TK, grinning as if he'd just gotten exactly what he wanted. And perhaps he truly had.

"You heard the lady. Let's get to work, partner."

* * *

 

**September 13th, 2015**

**TAI [12:13pm]:** Something weird happened last night. Like, WTF weird.  
 **TAI [12:13pm]:** And I don't know how you're gonna react so I'm just gonna throw it out there and hope you don't hate me forever.  
 **TAI [12:14pm]:** I slept with Mimi.

 **SORA [12:20pm]:** I'm not surprised.

 **TAI [12:21pm]:** Wait what.  
 **TAI [12:22pm]:** What the hell is that supposed to mean?  
 **TAI [12:22pm]:** Why aren't you yelling at me? Why aren't you surprised?

 **SORA [12:24pm]:** Because I kind of saw it coming, Tai. You two spent all that time together rehearsing for her show.  
 **SORA [12:25pm]:** I know you like her, but your secret is safe with me. :)  
 **SORA [12:25pm]:** I mean, why else would you have agreed to go through with it in the first place?

 **TAI [12:31pm]:** Right. Yeah. No other reason.

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** There you have it, folks - the Michi aftermath. Poor Tai... But you can't bring a girl like Mimi back to the Bro Pad and _not_ expect to get busted. :P Also, have some Kari/TK flashback and Kamiya sibling love, yes yes. If Tai ever seems a little salty toward TK in this fic, now you know why. No one makes his sister cry and gets away with it, haha. I guess this chapter was a little Takari-centric, but I had to get a few of their plot thingies out of the way. I usually try to make the chapters as balanced as possible. Anyway, thanks for the patience, everyone! I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I'll try to post the next one in a much more timely manner.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** WHY. WAS. THIS. CHAPTER. SO. DIFFICULT?! Seriously, it downright _refused_ to be written. I must've written it and re-written it about ten times because I just didn't like anything I was typing out... And, as fate would have it, the final product didn't turn out anything like I was originally expecting, haha. But I guess that's just how the writing process goes sometimes! Anyway, that's my crappy excuse for such a long delay in updating. :P Enjoy the next chapter, everyone!

 **About Us**  
Chapter 7

* * *

 

**October 25th, 2015**

" _Ooh, baby, your love is like a volcano… You get me so hot, then you bring me down low…"_

Matt was going on his sixth consecutive hour of singing about stupid volcanoes, and he had just about had it.

"… _Like a volcano-oh-oh-oh, like a volcano-oh-oh-oh…"_

From behind the glass wall separating him from the control room, Matt could see the audio engineer sitting in front of the sound mixer, drumming his fingers against the tabletop to the catchy beat. At least _someone_ was enjoying the band's new single.

The final chord rung in the air, tapering out into a piercing silence as the song ended. The overhead intercom crackled to life, followed by the audio engineer's voice.

"Great job, guys. Take a quick five and then we'll listen to playback."

Matt pulled off his headphones and headed toward the exit. He was the first one out of the room.

While his fellow bandmates made a mad dash for the vending machines or the restroom, Matt stormed down the narrow hallway, seeking out the back door. He needed fresh air — something to clear his mind from everything that was happening inside that recording studio. He always assumed that his first time in the studio would be with a song that he was passionate about. A song that he'd be proud to call his own when it played on the radio. A song that made people want to really _listen_ instead of bounce around aimlessly to the poppy tune and nonsensical lyrics. But that's not what people want to hear, Fox had said. _Welcome to the twenty-first century, kid — nobody wants to listen to you wax angsty poetic on a barroom stool when they could be up and dancing —_

Matt barreled out the back door and was greeted by not only the cool autumn breeze, but also the startled face of his girlfriend.

"Sora?"

She stood a few feet away from the door, looking very much taken off-guard. Blinking her burgundy eyes at him, she began, "Hi, I — I know you said that you were busy today so I was just stopping by to surprise you… But it looks like you managed to surprise me instead."

He cracked a smile. It was impossible not to.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I was kind of in a rush."

"Is this a bad time, then…?" Sora wondered, taking in his tense posture.

"Yeah," Matt shook his head and immediately backtracked, "I mean, no. It's not. I was just —"

"It's a simple answer, Matt. Either you have time or you don't."

She spoke abruptly, coldly, and Matt couldn't even blame her. He felt like all he'd been telling her lately is no. When he failed to respond, Sora sighed and turned on her heel, but Matt reached out his hand to take her wrist.

"Please. Don't go."

It was soft, but firm — enough to make Sora stop and turn around again. Perhaps there was something in his tired blue eyes that made her believe that her boyfriend was still in there. Somewhere.

"Can we talk?" She asked at last. Matt nodded and released his hold with hesitance, as if she might run away if he didn't keep her close. "I know that this is a hectic time for you and the band, but lately it… well, it feels like —"

The door swung open again, revealing Fox in a gaudy red blazer that only a young, dashing music industry professional could pull off. His eyes went straight to Matt. "There you are, kid. We've been looking for you. Austin has some notes on your last take and then we gotta rehearse the —" Fox's scrutinizing gaze then landed on Sora. "Who's this? The new intern?"

The redhead opened her mouth to protest, but Matt easily snaked an arm around her shoulders, interrupting with, "Fox, this is my girlfriend, Sora."

" _Ahh_ ," the manager stuck out his hand like a true executive. "A pleasure. Call me Fox."

"Fox. Of course. I've heard so much about you," Sora, always polite, shook his hand firmly. "I was just passing through to see if Matt could spare an hour for lunch."

Fox was shaking his head before she had even finished. "No can do, little lady. This guy's gotta get back to work. The big kids are making an album today. You understand, yeah?"

Matt could feel Sora's entire body tense beneath his arm. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line across her face. Had they been in private, Matt would've expected a full-on detonation to occur, but she kept her anger to herself, bubbling just beneath the surface and only occasionally oozing from the cracks of her calm facade.

"Of course I understand," she wiggled away from her boyfriend's arm and shot him a tight smile. "Have fun with the _big kids_."

"But since you're here…"

Fox's voice trailed off with just enough ambiguity to bring Sora to a halt on her walk back to the parking lot.

"Maybe you could be a doll and pick up some coffee for us," the man finished with a blinding grin. "We could all use a little pick-me-up to get us through the rest of the day."

Sora spun back around to narrow her eyes at Matt, who was busying himself by staring at an arbitrary speck on the ground. He only glanced up for a second, but it was long enough to see the question in her fiery glower: _Are you going to do anything about this?_

Matt gave a quiet, nearly inaudible grunt and returned to staring at the ground.

"I'm happy to help," said Sora, suddenly.

Fox beamed brilliantly, "I take a large half sweet, non-fat macchiato with soy milk and an extra shot of espresso. Thanks, Sarah."

"Actually, it's _Sora_ —"

"See you inside, superstar," he flashed his stark white teeth at Matt before closing the door behind him.

Matt ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "You don't have to, you know."

"I know," she said. "But it's not like I have any other plans today. Right, _superstar_?"

He watched her march back to the parking lot. He wanted to follow, but his feet were weighted to the cold pavement. His muscles refused to budge. The tether was pulling him forward, yet, somehow, he was resisting.

* * *

 

**October 24th, 2015**

**TAI [3:02pm]:** Dudes. We still on for our epic sleepBROver tomorrow night?  
 **TAI [3:02pm]:** Because Jurassic World just came out on Amazon Prime and it definitely has my vote.  
 **TAI [3:03pm]:** Avatar is not an option this week, Kido, so don't even ask.

 **JOE [3:04pm]:** What's wrong with Avatar?!

 **IZZY [3:05pm]:** Besides the fact that we end up watching it every Sunday night, per your insistence? I keep telling you that there is no plausible way for the planet of Pandora to rotate that closely to the moon and still be able to sustain life. It's just not astronomically accurate.  
 **IZZY [3:06pm]:** And, technically, this wouldn't meet the criteria of a real sleepover, seeing as we all live together already.

 **TAI [3:08pm]:** …You guys suck.

 **IZZY [3:08pm]:** But yes, I will be present.

 **JOE [3:09pm]:** Me, too! My study group ended up getting cancelled after all.

 **TAI [3:09pm]:** That just leaves you, superstar. You in?  
 **TAI [3:16pm]:** Matt? Dude? Helloooooo?

 **IZZY [3:17pm]:** Maybe he saw the word 'sleepBROver' and deleted your message.

 **TAI [3:17pm]:** C'mon, Iz, you love our sleepBROvers. It's the best excuse for four heterosexual guys to snuggle on the couch together!

 **IZZY [3:18pm]:** Please stop.

 **MATT [3:20pm]:** Sorry, guys, my phone was on silent. Meeting with recording exec til 4.  
 **MATT [3:20pm]:** Can't make it tomorrow night. We'll be in the studio all day.

 **TAI [3:21pm]:** But we always do Sunday nights.

 **MATT [3:23pm]:** Did you seriously think we'd all have every single Sunday night available for the rest of the year? Sorry, but I'm busy.

 **TAI [3:23pm]:** That's the whole point! We gotta make as many Sundays count as we can before everything starts getting crazy. Just reschedule or something!

 **MATT [3:26pm]:** I'm not rescheduling this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for another lame Sunday night at home with you idiots.

 **TAI [3:27pm]:** What the hell, man?  
 **TAI [3:27pm]:** Fine, you're uninvited to the sleepBROver, anyway.  
 **TAI [3:27pm]:** We'll have an awesome time watching dinosaurs tear shit up without you!

 **IZZY [3:32pm]:** Well, that was effective.

 **JOE [3:33]:** …Is now a bad time to suggest The Hobbit?

* * *

 

**October 17th, 2015**

"Anxious?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"No."

"Nervous?"

Matt looked up from the guitar he'd been tuning and shot Tai a warning glare. " _No_."

TK stifled an amused chortle behind tight lips as his hand scribbled wildly onto the blank page in his lap. In his own honest opinion, his brother looked like he were about to throw up — which he promptly jotted down in his observation journal — but he kept that thought to himself. He knew how much Matt hated being the subject of one of his many writing projects.

"C'mon, man," Tai, who'd been lounging on the old leather recliner in the band's dressing room, perked up. "Cut the tough guy act. There are, like, a billion people out there screaming your name — even though I'd be screaming, too, if I saw you on stage looking like _that_."

Matt set his guitar aside and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror. He regarded his appearance with narrowed eyes before shifting them toward his friend again. "Looking like _what_?"

"Like the love child of Justin Bieber and Kurt Cobain."

That time, TK really did chortle, but Matt was too busy staring down his reflection to do anything about it. The stranger standing before him had meticulously styled hair, a tiny metal stud puncturing his right earlobe, and was wearing a pair of distressed jeans that were far too tight for any male to consider decent. He looked ridiculous. And he _felt_ a little ridiculous, too, no matter how many times Fox insisted that his new look would be good for the band's image.

But new clothes were the least of Matt's concerns. He was more disturbed by the ghostliness of his skin, the hollowing of his cheeks, the slumping of his shoulders, and the bags under his eyes that were the color of dead flesh. He looked haggard. Wasted. Defeated.

 _Is this what a rockstar is supposed to look like?_ , he had to ask himself.

"… And we lost him," TK's playful voice suddenly reached his ears and pulled him back to reality. The older brother glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of their expectant faces.

"You okay, dude?" Tai asked. "You know I was just kidding around."

"Don't worry about him," said TK. "He's probably just trying to channel his inner musician. You know, broody. Mysterious. Artistically tortured — _ooh_ ," he began scribbling again, clearly inspired by his own musings.

"There's our favorite heartthrob!"

A whirlwind of pink and sweet-smelling perfume whizzed into the dressing room and, suddenly, Matt found himself wrapped up in Mimi's enthusiastic embrace. A bit baffled, the blond patted her on the back in return. "Nice to see you, too, Mimi," he chuckled.

"Sorry we're late," Kari announced once she and Sora walked through the doorway, arriving a few moments after their peppy friend. "The line outside was at least a mile long. And getting through the backstage security was even worse."

"But it was worth the wait to wish you luck before your big concert!" Mimi chirped.

"Careful," Sora warned with a teasing grin. "She's only trying to get on your good side in the hopes that you'll ask her to sing a duet with you."

Her scheme having been foiled, Mimi immediately dropped the act. The petite brunette huffed indignantly, stepping away from Matt and crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it would be for _your_ benefit just as much as mine. This poor audience won't even know what a _real_ star sounds like unless I get _my_ hands on a mic —"

"Alright. Down, girl," the redhead laughed as she made her way toward Matt. "And quit hogging the heartthrob."

She greeted him with a swift peck on the lips and a warm smile, which he happily reciprocated. The girl's presence alone made him want to sigh in relief — something reliable to keep him grounded while he waded through a sea of unfamiliarity. His personal tether.

"Busy after the show?" Sora asked. "We were all thinking of going out to celebrate and it wouldn't be the same without the man of the hour."

Matt frowned. "Can't. We scheduled a meet-and-greet tonight. If the crowd is as big as you guys say it is, then it could take a while."

TK looked up from his journal, brow furrowed prudently. "Jeez, don't you ever get a night off?"

"Nope," his brother answered with a sigh. "Fox says if we let up now, then we could lose our momentum. My schedule is slammed until Thanksgiving break… And even then I only get a few days to relax before it's back to work."

"At least you _have_ a break. I'll be stuck here all by my lonesome," Mimi whined from in front of the mirror where she was busy primping her hair. "Mommy and Daddy will be on an all-expenses-paid vacation in Venice for the entire month — riding gondolas and sipping wine _without me_."

"So you're just going to mope around your apartment instead of going home?" Kari wondered from her seat beside TK.

Mimi stuck her nose in the air. "If I'm going to wallow in self-pity, then I'd prefer to do it where I'm most comfortable, thank you very much."

"But, Mimi, you can't be alone on Thanksgiving," the younger girl protested. "You should be spending time with people and friends who care about you —" she paused, suddenly struck with an idea. " —which is why you should stay with _our_ family over break."

Tai — who, by no coincidence, had fallen uncharacteristically silent from the moment Mimi waltzed through the door — suddenly erupted with a bout of uproarious laughter. He fizzled back into silence as soon as he noticed everyone's curious eyes watching him.

"Wait," he croaked. "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kari challenged, meeting her brother's dread-filled eyes with a pointed stare. "It's the right thing to do. Not to mention that mom loves sharing her recipes with other people, and we have a guest room upstairs —"

"Might not need one," Matt muttered under his breath. Sora gently nudged him with her elbow.

Mimi turned around, eyes gleaming with appreciation as she cooed, "Oh, Kari, you're just the sweetest thing! I would _love_ to spend Thanksgiving with your family."

Tai sputtered tactlessly, "But we — you can't — I just —"

But then Mimi was suddenly standing before him, hands clasped innocently behind her back with her enticingly plump lips curled upward into a small smile. Those round, dewey, stupidly gorgeous eyes were trained on his face for the first time since _that night_ — and the world's most painfully awkward breakfast that followed. Tai still couldn't catch a whiff of french toast without wanting to crawl into a hole.

"You don't mind… Do you, Tai?"

"Uh…"

Tai was vaguely aware of Matt turning away to disguise his laughter — and he made a mental note to get revenge later — but at that moment, he was more preoccupied with the way his brain felt like it was turning to mush.

Mimi waited, batting her lashes shamelessly.

 _Damn_ , she was _good_.

"… The more the merrier, right?"

The brunette squealed in victory, clapping her hands like a giddy child. "Then it's settled!"

Across the room, Kari was beaming as she tapped away at her phone, most likely to inform their mother of their new holiday guest. Tai slid down in the leather recliner, already regretting his moment of weakness.

"Ishida!" The band's stage manager poked his curly haired head into the dressing room, a scowl pulling at his features. "Where have you _been_? If you want a functional microphone tonight then you better get your ass on stage for the sound check _now_."

Matt grabbed his guitar and quickly started adjusting the strap over his shoulder. "Right, I'm on my way."

His friends wished him luck as he headed for the door, but he was stopped by Sora. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze as she asked, "See you tomorrow?"

"Maybe," he said. "I'll call you."

She gave a noncommittal nod in response, released his hand, and then watched him disappear down the hallway. Unfortunately, she was standing in a room with her closest friends who probably knew that she wasn't as unfazed by her boyfriend's vague dismissal as she pretended to be. But the last thing Sora wanted was their pity.

"We should go find our seats," she suggested abruptly. "You know, before the line gets any longer."

With that, she fled the dressing room, leaving a deafening silence in her wake. TK glanced between Mimi and Tai, who were both advertently avoiding eye contact, then checked his wrist for the watch that he wasn't actually wearing.

"Gee, look at the time…" he said offhandedly as he got to his feet. "Kari and I should get going, too. We're gonna have to snag good seats if we want to get enough coverage for the article."

TK took Kari by the hand and all but hauled her toward the door for a speedy getaway. The young girl followed his lead, shouldering the strap of her camera bag. Their clasped hands didn't go unnoticed by Tai, who shot his sister a look that said _we'll talk about this later._

"See you after the show," Kari called out over her shoulder just before the pair made their not-so-subtle exit.

Tai cleared his throat. Mimi rocked forward on her toes. And then they were both eerily aware that they were the only two left in the room.

"So…" Tai mumbled.

Mimi arched a perfectly groomed brow. "So?"

He drew in a breath at the exact moment she parted her glossy lips, and they ended up spitting out their words at the same time.

"Look, Mimi, I know that things are —"

"I'd just like to say that —"

Tai scratched the back of his head. "Uh, sorry. I have something I wanna tell you."

"I do, too," said Mimi. "Me first."

He couldn't help the frown that made its way onto his face. "Why do _you_ get to go first?"

"Ladies _always_ go first, Taichi," she chided.

"Well, when I see a lady around here, then I'll be a gentleman."

" _Doubtful_."

"Are you gonna say what you wanna say or _what_?"

"I think that night was a mistake."

Tai's expression dropped. There was no need for an explanation — they both knew precisely which night she was referring to. And, despite both of their greatest efforts, the memory brought a flush to their cheeks and a fluttering to their chests.

"You… do?" He asked.

"Yes," Mimi sighed. "An embarrassing, drunken mistake that should never be repeated or spoken of ever again."

The boy was admittedly dumbfounded by her unbridled honesty, but still managed to reply with a hurried, "Oh. Yeah. Totally. Like, not even if hell freezes over."

Although her lips were pouted as if she might've been a little offended, Mimi gave a curt nod. "I'm glad that we're finally able to agree on something," she said. "Now, what did you want to tell me?"

"Uh…" Tai hesitated. He started to regret breaching that particular subject at all now that he knew how she truly felt, but Mimi's impatient gaze was difficult to ignore. "I was just gonna — you know — kinda… apologize."

The final word tumbled past his lips like a mumbled mess, so the brunette perked up with a curious, "Excuse me? What was that?"

"I want to apologize…" he repeated, though with not much more clarity.

"So sorry — I can't quite make out that last —"

"I'm trying to _apologize_ , dammit!" Tai all but yelled, causing Mimi to jump, her big eyes widened in surprise. The boy tangled a hand in his unruly hair, lowering his volume in defeat. "Listen, Mimi, I'm sorry for overreacting about what happened. I didn't mean to make you feel bad or anything. Like you said, it was just a mistake and I… I dunno. I kinda panicked."

It was obvious that apologies were not Tai's strongest suit, but Mimi still felt a twinge of gratitude for his concerted effort. "Well… I suppose I'm sorry, too, for telling the other boys the way I did," she began, looking away. "That might've been a bit… uncalled for."

"It's okay," Tai shrugged. "I guess they would've found out eventually."

"So…"

"So," he repeated. "What now?"

"We can either continue avoiding each other or we can choose to handle this like the mature adults that we are — well, speaking for _myself_ , that is," Mimi ignored Tai's audible scoff and added, "Meaning, we put this behind us and try to be friends."

The word hung in the air like a sad, deflating balloon. If there was one thing that Tai had learned during his college career, it was to never stay friends with a hookup. But this wasn't just some drunken one night stand — this was _Mimi_ — and the difference between her and the other girls that Tai had slept with was that she didn't accept no for an answer.

"Friends?" Tai fumbled over the word as if he were speaking a foreign language. "Yeah, okay. We can be friends. Just completely normal friends."

Mimi grinned, "Exactly."

"Just completely normal _platonic_ friends. Who've seen each other naked."

"We're being _adults_ about this, remember?" She reminded him harshly, hands planted on her hips.

"I may be an adult, but I'm still _human_ ," Tai complained.

"That's debatable," said Mimi. "Now let's go before we make ourselves late, shall we?"

The tiny brunette grabbed Tai by the hands and yanked him to his feet with surprising strength. She tugged him along behind her, giving the soccer player a generous view of her limber legs and delicate mini skirt that swished with every sashay of her hips — her curvy, smooth, well-defined _hips_.

Clearly, it was going to be more challenging than he thought.

* * *

 

**October 26th, 2015**

In the distance, a whistle blew and, like an army of troops trained for battle, the JV soccer team scattered across the field. From atop the metal bleachers, Kari watched through her camera lens. She waited for the sight to adjust — blurry figures focusing into perfect clarity until…

 _Click_.

The whistle sounded again and their coach motioned wildly from the sidelines. The players dispersed into different positions, but Kari's lens followed with mastered precision.

_Click, click._

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

The camera lowered and Kari threw a glance over her shoulder, utterly unsurprised to find TK leaning against the metal piping, hands buried leisurely inside his pockets. She wasn't entirely certain how long he'd been standing there, but he was watching her work with a small smile — the way someone might admire their favorite portrait in an art gallery.

"You did not," she teased, the quip falling past her lips with alarming ease. Being friends with TK felt much more natural than avoiding him. "I bet you just bugged Catherine until she told you where I was."

TK laughed — there was nothing but warmth and fondness in the sound. It was a really nice sound, Kari decided. "I plead the fifth," he lifted his hands in defense as he stepped forward to the girl's side. "But since we're on the topic… Why _are_ you here? The newspaper meeting ended like an hour ago."

He waited while Kari aimed her lens toward the field again, still and motionless until just the right moment.

 _Click_.

"Willis has some sort of stomach flu so Catherine asked if I could cover the JV article until he gets back," she answered.

TK scrunched up his nose the way he always did whenever he was equally amused and confused by something. "So you willingly agreed to do someone else's job on your one night off?"

Her response didn't require any thought. "Of course."

"For someone who's supposed to be just a stand-in, you're really putting everyone else's work ethic to shame."

"I just don't want to let anyone down."

 _Click_.

"Or maybe you just like making me look bad," TK grinned.

Kari peeked her chocolate eyes out from behind her camera. "Oh, I wouldn't have to try this hard to do that."

Their laughter blended together like a song, his energetic tenor and her lithe soprano. That, too, was a really nice sound, Kari decided again.

The soccer players began hooting and hollering as soon as Davis stole the ball, dribbling it down the field with teammates in pursuit. The boy barreled forward with reckless abandon and impressive footwork, all while keeping his dark eyes glued on the bleachers to ensure that he had Kari's attention. And he did. She raised her camera, leaning forward until he was centered in her lens.

_Click, click, click, click._

Davis' grin stretched wider at the sight of Kari's camera following him across the field. He was cheeky enough to send a wink her way, but the distraction allowed another speedy teammate to dart in his path and kick the ball away from his feet. Davis didn't even notice until the other players reversed their trajectory, leaving him alone and flabbergasted on the opposite end of the field. Kari giggled and snapped a few more shots of the boy's outraged expression.

"He likes you, you know," said TK, simply.

"Davis?" Kari asked, although she already knew the answer. With pink cheeks, she murmured, "I know."

"And you like him, too." It wasn't a question.

" _TK_ ," Kari chided softly, focus still trained on the action unfolding on the field, camera poised and ready.

"It's true," the blond boy insisted.

_Click._

He jabbed a finger in her face and said, "See?"

Kari furrowed her brow, lowered her camera, and turned to face her friend. "What?"

"You smile every time you take his picture," TK pointed out.

"Because he's my _friend_ , silly," she argued. "I enjoy taking pictures of my friends."

"Good," he gave one resolute nod of his beanie'd head. "It's about time you started photographing the things that _you_ want to, for a change."

It brought her to a pause, one hand gripping the metal fence in front of her and the other carefully cradling her camera. She felt a brief flicker of hotheadedness pulse through her veins — a trait that she undoubtedly inherited from her brother. "I always photograph what I want," she said.

"Oh, yeah?" TK challenged, hands burrowed in his pockets once again. "When's the last time you took a picture that you honestly liked? And not for a school assignment or because Catherine told you to — but because you stumbled upon something that you found beautiful or interesting or exciting — and you wanted to capture that moment forever."

Kari thought. And thought. And thought again. That's when she realized — quite distressingly — that she didn't have an answer.

Instead, she retaliated with a quiet mutter of, "What are you saying?"

"I'm _saying_ ," TK began breezily, nudging Kari's arm with his elbow, "that you matter, too, Kari. And it wouldn't kill you to play hookie every once and a while. You know, take a break from all your commitments and focus on what _you_ want. It'll bring the spark back into your photos instead of looking so —"

"… Lifeless," Kari finished flatly. She recalled her conversation with TK in the coffee shop, when he had the audacity to call her photos the very same thing, but, suddenly, without even trying to, she understood.

Because Kari couldn't remember the last time she took a photo simply out of inspiration. Her beloved family cat, Miko, curled up on a sun-drenched windowsill. The crisp autumn leaves covering the campus quad like a sea of rich flame. Her friends heaving with laughter as they sat around a crackling bonfire, cherishing their final days of summer.

Where did that feeling go? And, more importantly, why did it leave in the first place?

The whistle blew a third time and Kari snapped to attention, staring down at her camera as if she'd just remembered why she was standing on the bleachers in the first place. TK was still watching her — studying, more like — as she untangled herself from her thoughts.

"Want me to stick around?" He offered. "We're partners, after all."

"That's okay," Kari readjusted the camera lens, bringing it back to eye level. "Like you said — it's our night off. Just because I'm crazy enough to take on another article doesn't mean you should be, too."

"Well, alright," said TK with just a hint of reluctance. He pushed himself away from the fence and took one step backwards. "Goodnight, you."

"Goodnight, _you_."

Kari didn't hear TK's footsteps disappearing back down the bleachers until a few moments after that. But when she did, her attention returned to the field. Davis and his teammates were now running drills — back and forth, back and forth. Her finger hovered over the shutter release, waiting for the perfect capture.

She never found it. She pressed it, anyway.

_Click._

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** I think one of these days I'm going to come up with a melody for Matt's pop song because the lyrics just crack me up every single time.

Also, before I forget - I just want to thank absolutely _everyone_ who's been reading and supporting this story! I've been receiving such amazingly kind words lately from people here and on tumblr so I really want to say how much it means to me. OH YEAH AND LAST MONTH THIS FIC REACHED +1000 VIEWS. _Seriously_ , guys. Could you be more awesome?! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** I was wondering why it felt like it was taking me forever to write this chapter. Then I finished it and realized that it's, like, 2000 words longer than my normal length chapters. So... That explains it, haha. I always get carried away with holiday-themed chapters, it seems! As always, thank you so much for your patience. Please enjoy the next chapter!

 **About Us  
** Chapter 8

* * *

 

**November 21st, 2015**

**TO:** [Sora Takenouchi]  
 **FROM:** [Mom]  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Thanksgiving Recipes

Sora,

Please tell Matt that I said THANK YOU for sending all those recipes. I don't know what I'd do without his expertise! Also, please let him know that I insist on handling everything in the kitchen this year. From what you've been telling me, it sounds like he's been very busy lately. I'm sure he'll appreciate some time to relax rather than slaving over a hot stove.

Wonderful news — your father is going to be in town for the holidays after all! He's been adjusting his work schedule for weeks to make sure he could make it home. He wants us all to be together so we can properly celebrate your fantastic news about grad school. He's so proud of you, sweetheart. We both are.

Love,  
Mom

* * *

 

**November 26th, 2015 - Thanksgiving**

"If our dad starts talking to you about football or the struggles of small business owners in this terrible economy, just smile and nod."

"Oh, and don't take it personally if the cat tries to claw your kneecaps off. Miko hates everyone except for Kari — it's not you."

"And the most _important_ thing of all — do _not_ go near our mom's stuffed brussel sprouts, even if she offers them."

"They're filled with raw wheat grass and _regret_."

In the backseat of Tai's shoddy sedan, en route to the Kamiya residence on a chilly November morning, Mimi was frowning. "Do all of your family functions involve so many _rules_?" She whined.

"I wouldn't call them rules," Tai's bright eyes suddenly appeared in the rearview mirror. "More like survival tips."

Kari shifted around, glancing over the shoulder of the passenger seat, and flashed Mimi a guilty smile. "I probably should've warned you before you agreed to stay with us that a Kamiya family Thanksgiving is a little… unconventional."

 _Unconventional_. Although Kari had said it with the most negative of intentions, Mimi couldn't help but look forward to an unconventional holiday, especially when — in the Tachikawa household — a conventional Thanksgiving included too much wine, not enough attention, and her mother's condescending reminder of, "Mimi, darling, too many carbs will go straight to your hips, you know" whenever she caught the young girl snatching a cracker from the hors d'oeuvre platter.

Yes, Mimi _craved_ unconventional for a change.

"I'll be the judge of that," she replied gingerly, moving her gaze to the window.

The car turned down a nondescript road that immediately opened up to a quaint, sunny neighborhood, lined with rows of cottage-style houses and tall street lamps. They drove past joggers and dog walkers, colorful mailboxes, and old tire swings hanging from trees in the front yard. Everything seemed friendly and welcoming — a far cry from the cold, stately mansions in Mimi's hometown. The driveway that they pulled into sat in front of a yellow house with red shutters. A collection of delicate wind chimes dangled over the front porch and the lawn was littered with dry autumn leaves.

"Home, sweet home," Tai mumbled as he cut the shuddering engine of his car. He got out of his seat, stretched his arms into the air, and headed to the trunk to retrieve their bags.

Mimi followed suit, perching her sunglasses atop her silky nest of hair to take in her new surroundings. Smoothing out the billowy bottom of her dress, she rounded the car and positioned herself right in Tai's peripheral.

The soccer player failed to notice as he leaned halfway into the trunk, fumbling with Mimi's suitcase — which was approximately the same size as his, but, miraculously, seemed to weigh twice as much.

" _Ahem_ ," she cleared her throat.

Still nothing.

Mimi furrowed her brow with childish indignation and planted her fists on her hips to showcase the stylish outfit she was sporting. "Aren't you going to tell me that I look nice?"

Tai finally perked up — nearly banging his head on the roof of his car in the process — when he realized that the question was directed to him. The brunet allowed his eyes to graze over Mimi's dress, perhaps lingering a bit too long, and shrugged.

"I mean, uh, you always look pretty," he ignored his sister's knowing glance as she slid out of the passenger seat and continued, "But what gives? You didn't have to get all dressed up just for my parents."

Something suddenly shifted in Mimi's peeved expression — hurt? Offense, maybe? — but she masked it with a quick, proud lift of her nose before Tai could even notice. "Did it ever occur to you that a woman can dress as she pleases without any other reason other than to make _herself_ feel good?"

Tai knew that tone. Over the course of his existence, he'd heard it before from every single female that entered his life. It was a tone that told him he was about to be in trouble. "Well, yeah, but—"

"They're here! Susumu, they're here! They just pulled up!"

Mrs. Kamiya's enthusiastic voice followed the sound of the front door swinging open. Clad in a floral apron and an ear-splitting grin, she made her way down the stone path that led to the driveway, all while calling over her shoulder for her husband to hurry up.

Mimi's scowl was gone in record time and, in its place, a pearly white show-smile had appeared. Tai watched her brush past him and make a beeline for his squealing mother.

"What was all _that_ about? Did I _not_ just tell her that she looks pretty?" Tai wondered desperately when Kari appeared at his side.

The younger sibling simply shook her head with a quietly muttered, "You can be such a dummy sometimes."

"What?" He demanded.

"She didn't get dressed up to impress mom and dad," she scolded. "She wanted to impress _you_."

The look that crossed Tai's face could only be described as utter, staggering bewilderment. Kari was beginning to wonder if her brother had inexplicably lost his ability to produce words when he blurted out, "How do _you_ know that? Did she _tell_ you that?"

"She didn't have to," she said. "It's a girl thing. We all want to look nice for the boy we like."

"We're just _friends_ , Kari. Nobody likes anyone."

Again, the girl shook her head, this time with a hopeless sigh at her brother's expense. "Such a dummy…"

Before he could pry even further, Tai's attention was captured by the commotion going on at the top of the driveway. Mimi was trapped in one of his mother's iron-tight embraces, but she didn't appear to mind at all.

"—And please tell me what kind of parents abandon their only child for the holidays? It's just ridiculous! Don't worry, sweetheart — we'll take good care of you," Mrs. Kamiya finally pulled away to look Mimi in the eye. "You know, I always wanted two daughters."

"Uh, hey, remember us?" Tai cut in as he and Kari started toward their mother. "Your actual biological kids?"

"Oh, you know that I'm always happy to have you two home," Mrs. Kamiya chuckled fondly and opened her arms to give her children each a hug and kiss in turn, pausing only to cup Kari's face between her hands with a worried, "Sweetie, you look _exhausted_ ," to which Kari merely blushed.

Susumu Kamiya came bounding out the front door, television remote still wrapped in his clutches, looking rather frantic. "Hon, it's the end of the first quarter! I'm gonna miss the —"

"Your _children_ are here," his wife, Yuuko, sighed as Tai and Kari went to greet their father. "And our very special guest, Mimi."

Mr. Kamiya straightened up sheepishly when the brunette waltzed toward him and stuck out her hand with a confident, "Such a pleasure, Mr. Kamiya."

"Ah, that's right," the man shook her hand with a friendly smile. "You must be the infamous Mimi who convinced our soccer player here to get up on a stage."

"The one and only," Mimi sang, flipping her chocolate locks over her shoulder. Tai groaned incoherently from aside.

"We were so upset that we missed that performance," Yuuko stepped forward. "Somehow our invitation had the wrong date and time on it."

Mimi's glare went straight for Tai, who was attempting to look far too innocent for his own good. "Gee, wonder how that happened," he muttered flightily.

The subtle interaction went unnoticed by Mrs. Kamiya, who laid a gentle hand on Mimi's arm and began leading her up the stone pathway toward the front door. "Now let's get you inside where it's nice and warm — oh, Tai, honey — grab her bag and bring it to the guest room, would you?"

"Sorry, mom, but I think I left my forklift at school," the boy grumbled as he trudged back to the car, earning him a good-natured slap on the back from his father and a soft chortle from Kari.

The inside of the Kamiya household was just as cozy as the exterior. It was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon, though, as Mimi would later learn, it had no relation to Yuuko's cooking. A large brown sofa with a homemade quilt draped over the back faced the television, which was murmuring with the cries and cheers of the football game. The wooden mantle above the fireplace was lined with small potted plants and an assortment of framed childhood pictures. Mimi made a mental note to _definitely_ get a closer look at those later.

"Make yourself at home, dear," Mrs. Kamiya motioned to the living room with a graceful hand. The woman smiled knowingly when she caught a glimpse of Mimi's wide eyes, which were swimming with genuine adoration for the comfortable oasis she'd just stepped foot into.

Susumu and Kari made their way through the door, closely followed by Tai's grunts of exertion as he struggled onto the porch with Mimi's suitcase. He was mumbling something along the lines of 'oh, don't worry about me, I'll just carry all the bags _by myself_ ', but his family barely acknowledged his strife — they were far more distracted by the familiar jingle of a cat collar stampeding down the staircase. Kari was the first to move when Miko zipped across the carpet like a tiny rocket, but the Kamiya family pet easily dodged the girl's open arms and headed straight for Mimi.

"Miko —" Kari began hurriedly, concerned that the rambunctious feline would make good on his reputation for assaulting any and all unfamiliar guests.

But, to everyone's utter surprise, that certainly wasn't the case. Miko flitted happily around Mimi's boots, nuzzling his furry face against her ankles. The fearless brunette simply knelt down to pet the cat's head, cooing sweet nothings into his ear while he purred as loud as a motorboat.

"Well, would you look at _that_ ," Yuuko marveled.

Kari grinned at the unexpected sight. "He usually doesn't take very well to strangers — or anyone, for that matter."

"Then he must have _exquisite_ taste — isn't that right? Yes, you do," Mimi chirped sweetly and Miko replied with a _meow_ of solidarity.

Tai finally made it into the house, leaning his weight on Mimi's bag as he focused on catching his breath. The soccer player narrowed a suspicious glance toward Mimi, still slightly breathless as he wondered, "What are you, some kinda cat whisperer?"

The girl stuck out her tongue in response.

"Oh, you three must be starving after that long car ride," Yuuko piped up, as if suddenly remembering her manners, and scurried to the coffee table where she retrieved an untouched plate of crispy mounds. She held the platter under their noses. "My classic stuffed brussel sprouts — help yourselves!"

The Kamiya siblings immediately began their onslaught of diligent excuses.

" — already ate a whole bag of gummy worms on the trip…"

" — wouldn't want to get too full before dinner…"

Mimi, however, stood up and plucked a brussel sprout off the plate as if she hadn't just endured an entire car ride filled with countless warnings about the woman's questionable recipes. "Don't mind if I do, Mrs. Kamiya."

She popped the appetizer into her mouth and there was a nearly audible gasp from the other family members.

Mimi chewed thoughtfully and, after a few anticipatory moments, she swallowed. "You know…" she said before pausing. Tai thought it might be because the brussel sprout had triggered her gag reflex, but, knowing Mimi, it was most likely for dramatic effect. "It could use a little something… maybe a hint of oregano."

" _Really_ ," Mrs. Kamiya looked positively inspired by Mimi's suggestion. "I've never considered that before."

"Oh, yes," the girl continued with an adamant nod. "And the filling could stand a bit more flavor as well. I happen to have an _outstanding_ recipe for ricotta and herb compote…"

"That sounds delicious!"

Their animated chatter carried them toward the kitchen, Miko trotting along at Mimi's heels, leaving the other three gawking in the living room.

Susumu blinked. "Did she just eat…?"

"Yep," the kids said in unison.

"Well," Mr. Kamiya chuckled with bemusement. "The girl's got guts, that's for sure."

"For the time being, yes," said Kari. "But, after dinner, I'm not so sure."

* * *

 

**November 27th, 2014 - Thanksgiving, last year**

Sora's mother was bent over the counter, brow creased in frustration, as she battled with the electric mixer.

"Oh, this thing always gives me trouble…" She muttered to no one in particular. Her finger flipped the power switch, but the small appliance whirred to life only to shut down a mere three seconds later.

From her post at the cutting board, on the opposite end of the countertop, Sora glanced up curiously.

Mrs. Takenouchi sighed laboriously — the biggest sign of annoyance that the innately calm woman would ever allow in public — and flipped the switch once more. Again, the mixer didn't last long.

"Here."

Long, lean fingers reached out to help. Mrs. Takenouchi turned to find Matt as he gently moved her hands away from the troublesome appliance.

"Oh, no, Matt," the woman began. "You're our guest —"

"I insist," he was firm, but always polite. "You've been working in the kitchen all afternoon. You deserve a break. I can take it from here."

Mrs. Takenouchi frowned, "Well…"

"It's not a problem," Matt continued to assure her. He was already removing the bowl from the mixer and opting to stir the pumpkin pie batter by hand. "I actually really enjoy cooking."

Persuaded by the boy's words and her growing exhaustion, Mrs. Takenouchi lifted her frown into a grateful smile. "Thank you. I appreciate the help," she made her way out of the kitchen as she said, "I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

Matt nodded, one hand cradling the bowl while the other began stirring like a pro. There was a beat of silence — save for the whipping of the batter as it smacked up against the sides of the mixing bowl — before the blond could feel a familiar pair of burgundy eyes fixed on him.

"What?" Matt asked, prompted by Sora's smug grin.

"You're doing that thing you do."

He lifted a brow in equal parts confusion and amusement. "I'm doing a thing?"

"Mhm," Sora bit down on her bottom lip, an attempt to conceal her smirk as something more matter-of-fact. "That thing where you dazzle innocent, unsuspecting people with your charm."

Matt chuckled and concealed his flushed cheeks — which he'd never, _ever_ admit to — by staring down into the bowl. "It doesn't hurt to get on your mom's good side," he explained calmly.

"Oh, please. My mom already adores you," and for a fraction of a second, Sora's grin wavered, but she was quick to catch herself, keeping her tone as light as possible as she offhandedly added, "Just like the rest of the female population, I'm sure."

The redhead returned her attention to the vegetables on the cutting board that she'd been in the process of slicing. She reached for the knife, but a warm, strong hand took hers before she could touch the handle. Startled, Sora looked up.

"Just so we're clear," Matt was suddenly standing mere inches away from her, the mixing bowl now abandoned on the countertop. His blue gaze was locked and his voice was nothing more than a low, intimate purr that resonated all the way through Sora's bones. "The only person I want to dazzle is you. You know that, right?"

Sora absolutely knew it. She knew it in the way that Matt always opened the door for her. She knew it in the way that he wrapped a protective, but subtle arm around her waist whenever they walked through a crowd. She knew it in the way that his eyes would seek her out in the audience during one of his shows and send her a wink that all the other girls would go mad for. She knew it in his gaze, his touch, his tone — and he never even had to utter a single word.

She found her free hand having to grip the edge of the countertop to keep herself steady while her knees felt like they might give out beneath her at any moment. Still, the girl dared not look away from those piercing, intense eyes. She inhaled shakily, stunned by how easily he left her breathless even after all this time. "You're doing it again," she whispered.

"I know," said Matt, smirking.

Sora's hand crept toward the mixing bowl on the counter as she continued to search for balance. Matt leaned in closer, nearly nose to nose, and the redhead could feel her heartbeat pick up the pace inside her chest.

"You…" she began softly. "You've got something on your face."

"Huh?"

And before Matt could change gears, there was a resounding, wet _smack_ , followed by the telltale drip of something slippery sliding down his cheek. He jumped back, a hand flying to his face to reveal fingertips coated in delicious pumpkin pie batter. Looking up, he found Sora still holding onto the countertop as peals of laughter rang from her grinning lips. One hand was covered in the orange-ish batter, a clear sign that Matt had found his culprit.

"So that's what I get for trying to dazzle you, is it?" He wiped the batter off his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Well, with the way that you and your band are starting to get some real fans, I can't let you get _too_ pleased with yourself," Sora explained impishly. "Someone has to keep your ego in check."

Matt shrugged, the prime example of a pokerface. "If I were you, I'd be less concerned about my ego… and more concerned about your hair."

Sora had a funny feeling about what was coming next, but she didn't react fast enough to outmaneuver Matt's speedy reflexes. The blond had reached for the nearby can of whipped cream and aimed it right at his girlfriend's alarmed expression as the white foam exploded from the nozzle like a thick, melting cloud. She yelped and turned away, but quickly realized that she had nowhere to run. Matt had cornered her against the edge of the countertop, relentless with his weapon of choice.

" _Now_ I'm pleased with myself!" He laughed wickedly.

But the feisty redhead hadn't given up yet. She could barely see through her cream-coated lashes, but her hand blindly sought out the mixing bowl. With a fresh handful of gooey batter, she flung the first toss that would definitively mark the beginning of a full-fledged food war. Their cries and shrieks were outmatched only by their riotous laughter, which carried them through every hurl of batter and spray of whipped cream. Sometimes Sora would attempt to escape, but Matt would always stop her, winding his arms around her waist and carrying her back into the kitchen while she fruitlessly flails against his hold. Once the kitchen floor was just as slippery as their bodies, it became increasingly more difficult to maintain their balance. Sora was mid-throw when she stepped in a puddle of melted whipped cream that had been smeared across the linoleum. Matt lunged forward for the catch, but he must've slipped, too, because the next thing they both knew, they had collapsed in a sticky pumpkin heap on the floor, chests heaving with laughter.

"I think…" Sora wheezed. "I think we have to start over with the pie."

Matt glanced around at the messy aftermath. All of the batter from the bowl was now caking the cabinets and countertops.

"In a minute," he said. "You've got something on your face…"

Sora blinked while his hand reached out to cup the side of her spattered face, slow and tender — a welcome change from the ferocity of their food war mere moments ago. Matt leaned in and Sora held her breath until their sweet-tasting lips were nearly touching. Then she unwittingly blurted out, "There're raw eggs in there."

He paused and raised a brow at her flushed cheeks, visible even through the smears of batter.

"You can get E. coli from raw eggs."

Matt grinned. "I'll take my chances."

And then he did.

* * *

 

**November 26th, 2015 - Thanksgiving**

Something smelled good. _Really_ good.

Tai sniffed at the air as he stomped down the stairs and froze when the alluring aroma led him straight to the kitchen.

No… It couldn't be. Tai couldn't remember the last time his family had enjoyed a decent Thanksgiving feast — one that involved edible food that didn't give him the worst case of indigestion an hour later. He crept into the kitchen, jaw falling open when he noticed the countertop, which was covered in various ingredients, dishes, and casseroles that didn't smell like they'd been comprised exclusively of items from the health food store. Stuffing, caramel glazed carrots, green bean casserole…

Mrs. Kamiya stood up from where she'd been hunched over the oven and held out a tray of freshly baked cookies. "Tai, honey, you're just in time!"

The boy was still glancing around incredulously, as if he'd just unknowingly walked into a crime scene. "What… is happening right now?"

"Mimi was kind enough to make us her famous butterscotch cookies. Can you believe that she actually used _real_ butter in the batter?"

"It's a crazy world we live in, mom," Tai commented dryly.

His mother pushed the tray closer to her son. "We need a taste tester, you know."

After catching a stronger whiff of the sweet-smelling cookies, Tai didn't require anymore convincing. He took not one, but three treats off the tray and began finishing them off in single bites.

"Well?" Mrs. Kamiya prompted.

"Howey _shee_ , dees uh _ho guh_ ," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

"Try this!"

Tai spun around just in time for Mimi to stuff a spoonful of something into his already full mouth. He groaned in protest, cheeks comically engorged, but the moment those delicious garlic mashed potatoes reached his taste buds, he was humming in appreciation. Mimi beamed with pride.

"Delicious, hm?"

" _Mhm_."

"Mimi is quite a natural in the kitchen," Yuuko grinned. "She's been a big help with tweaking my old recipes."

The girl waved a humble, dismissive hand as she grabbed the cookie tray. "Oh, Yuuko, you're too sweet. It's the very least I can do to repay you for your generous hospitality."

Tai snatched one more cookie from the tray when Mimi walked past him on her way to the living room. She paused long enough to throw an amiable eye roll in his direction, to which he just grinned cheekily. Leaning his elbow on the counter, Tai watched as Mimi set the cookies in the center of the coffee table. His father and Kari both reached for one from their comfortable positions on the sofa. As she flitted around in that silly floral apron, the whole room seemed to be glowing. And Tai couldn't quite figure out why, but he had a distinct feeling that it had something to do with that newfound sparkle behind Mimi's lively eyes.

"Someone looks happy."

Tai hadn't even realized he'd been smiling like a fool until his mother called him out. The boy snapped to attention, turning away from the heartwarming sight in the living room, and nibbled on the cookie in his hand so that he didn't have to face Yuuko's meaningful gaze. "We have cookies made with _real_ butter. Who wouldn't be happy?" He deflected.

"Kari says that you two have become very close," his mother ventured, busying herself with the dirty dishes piled in the sink.

Tai took a slightly agitated chomp out of the cookie. "So?"

"So… it's nice," said Mrs. Kamiya. "You've never invited a girl home for the holidays before."

" _First_ of all," he began, nearly making his mother chuckle at the childlike stubbornness that never seemed to escape his tone, even after all the years. " _I_ didn't. Kari did. Second of all, she had nowhere else to go, anyway. And _third_ of all, it's… it's just — it's not even like that, mom, okay?"

Mrs. Kamiya nodded in understanding, but kept her lips pressed firmly together to prevent a smile from forming. She knew her son — any sign of amusement would only fuel his vehemence even more. "Well, alright then," she spoke calmly. "But you should let her know that she's welcome here anytime she wants. Even if she does have somewhere to go."

Tai snorted and shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. What a _ridiculous_ notion.

His eyes traveled back to the living room. Mimi was now settled on the sofa between Susumu and Kari with a snoozing Miko curled up on her lap. She was speaking rather emphatically, bringing smiles to the faces of her small audience, and laughing as light and musically as the wind chimes out front. Her glow was shining even brighter than before.

On second thought, maybe Tai would let her know. Just in case.

* * *

 

**November 27th, 2014 - Thanksgiving, last year**

"… I know, I will… Okay… Thanks, Dad… Have a safe flight tomorrow… I love you, too…"

The soft, nearly imperceptible voice coming from the other side of the door made Matt stop in his tracks. Through the narrow crack in the doorway, he could make out Sora's figure sitting on the edge of her bed, a phone held tightly to her ear. He waited until the conversation ended and Sora lowered the phone back into her lap. The girl's eyes lingered on the dark screen for a while, then fidgety fingertips raised to rub the delicate creases of her forehead. Hesitantly, Matt knocked on the door before peeking inside.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

Sora looked up to find his blue gaze peering in cautiously from the doorway. Her posture immediately shifted into something more alert and significantly less mopey.

"Yeah, of course," she said, allowing her boyfriend to step into the room. He had changed into sweatpants and a soft t-shirt, but his hair was still slightly damp from the shower, which had been quite necessary after their batter duel in the kitchen. Still, she thought, he remained obscenely handsome. "I was just giving my dad a call."

Matt made his way to the bed and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. "How's he doing?"

"Good," Sora nodded zealously, if not a bit forced. "He's flying to Vienna in the morning to speak at the international anthropological convention — so he's as busy as ever."

"Seems like it."

"But he told me to wish you a happy Thanksgiving," she added. "And that he wishes he could be here."

"There's always next year."

"Yeah."

Matt watched as Sora's eyes flitted back to the silent phone in her lap. To anyone else, it would've appeared to be just an idle glance, but the blond knew better. And he also knew that whatever was going on inside his girlfriend's mind would never come out without a bit of strategic coaxing.

"I'm sorry he couldn't make it, Sora," said Matt.

"It's fine," she drew her knees into her chest with a quick shrug of her shoulders. "I really don't care."

"You don't mean that," the boy stated plainly.

Sora nibbled her bottom lip, a bit sheepish due to her seemingly blatant transparency. "How do you know?"

"Because you're talking to the expert on parental disappointment," Matt patted the space beside him. Sora scooted closer so that he could wrap an arm around her, drawing her close. "At least your dad didn't miss Thanksgiving by choice. Mine willingly went into the office to get some extra hours."

She furrowed her brow. "Then you could've gone to your mom's place this year, with TK."

"I guess I could've," Matt pulled her in a bit tighter. "But I chose to be here with you instead."

Finally, a small smile appeared on her lips. "I'm glad you did. I don't even know what I'd do without you here."

Sora leaned against his chest, listening to the steady _thud, thud_ of his heartbeat that she'd grown so accustomed to after all the years. It was comforting, serene — her own personal lullaby. Matt turned his head and pressed his lips into her fiery hair. She smelled of mint and rosebuds.

"I promise," he said, voice low — for her ears only. "You'll never have to find out."

* * *

 

**November 26th, 2015 - Thanksgiving**

Later that evening, after everyone else in the Kamiya household was fast asleep, Tai tiptoed his way downstairs. Dinner had been a raging success, thanks to Mimi's superior culinary skills, but the boy's eternally insatiable stomach brought him to the kitchen anyway. A plate of various leftover baked goods sat on the counter, covered with plastic wrap, and Tai was about to help himself when something — someone, rather — caught his eye out the window.

If not for the pale beams of moonlight pouring down from the inky night sky, Tai might not have noticed Mimi in the backyard. He had to squint as he gazed out the window, just to make sure it was really her, but the glow of those warm chocolate eyes was unmistakably hers, even from a distance. She was sitting in their old treehouse in the back corner of their lawn, which was still remarkably sturdy even after years of neglect. Tai idly wondered what had brought her out there in the first place, but quickly figured that it'd be easier to just ask her himself. He went to the back door and stepped outside, making his way across the crisp grass to his childhood hangout.

"I see you found my secret hiding place."

Mimi looked down to find Tai standing at the foot of the ladder, smirking as he nibbled on a butterscotch cookie he'd stolen from the kitchen.

"You know," Mimi began a bit wistfully, her palms grazing over the dark planks of wood beneath her. "When I was a little girl, I always wanted a treehouse. A tree _castle_ , actually — complete with a royal throne and a moat to keep the peasants out."

As Tai began ascending the rickety ladder, he snorted, "Did you also want a magical unicorn to fly you around your kingdom?"

"That would've been nice," she ignored his blatant sarcasm and, instead, focused on the specks of glittering starlight before her. "If my treehouse had actually existed. I never had one. Mommy and Daddy were always too busy to help me build it."

Tai had never expected to feel any sympathy for Mimi — someone who had lived in the lap of luxury for her entire life — but as he took a seat beside her and caught a glimpse of the girl's dewey eyes cast outward like a silent prayer, he realized something. He realized that she wasn't _really_ asking for a mansion in the trees; she was asking for just one tiny scrap of her parents' attention. And despite how hard she tried, she never received it.

"Well, you're welcome in mine anytime," Tai told her. "I think it's about time I retired that sign, anyway…"

He pointed over his shoulder and Mimi followed the direction of his finger with her gaze. An old, shabby, hopelessly lopsided wooden sign hung above the entrance and, in Tai's childish scrawl, it read: _No girls allowed._

Mimi turned back around to meet his grin with her own. "I've never been one for following rules," she admitted proudly.

"Yeah, I kinda noticed," he chuckled.

Silence took over as the brunette's contemplative eyes found their way back to the sky. The moonlight shone down, painting her face with a pale gleam, washing her out with dusty freckles of light.

"So," Tai leaned back on his elbow and stole a glance at Mimi's ethereal profile from his peripheral vision. "What brings you out here, huh?"

"I just needed a bit of fresh air," she replied.

He thought about earlier that evening when his mother kept her occupied with various tasks in the kitchen. And how his father probably talked her ear off about things she couldn't care less about. And how Miko — who normally scratched and hissed at anything that didn't smell like his younger sister — wouldn't stop purring and brushing up against Mimi's ankles. It was no wonder that the poor girl needed some fresh air after the festivities had died down. Tai sighed, running a hand through his bush of hair.

"Look, Meems, I'm sorry about… _all that_. I know that my family can be completely insane, like, ninety-nine percent of the time, but —"

"You think that your family got on my nerves?" Mimi arched a single, perfectly sculpted brow.

"Yeah," Tai blinked. "They definitely get on _my_ nerves sometimes."

Mimi giggled, a shrill but musical sound muffled by the back of her hand. "Don't be silly. Your family is _lovely_ , Tai, and you should consider yourself lucky to have them," she steered her gaze away from the night sky and downward to her lap where her hands now laid limp. Her forehead creased delicately, as if she were pondering something of great importance. "Your mother didn't even think twice about giving me a big hug the moment I introduced myself. Your father asked me all about my performances at school because he was genuinely interested. And when we all sat down to dinner there was conversation and laughter and nobody ever stopped smiling. I don't think I've ever had a Thanksgiving like that before. I felt like I finally had a real family… And it felt _nice_ — even if it was only for a day."

"Well, if it's any consolation," Tai began, attempting to keep his tone nonchalant. "I think your parents are batshit crazy for not wanting to spend the holiday with you."

She turned to him, a small but hopeful smile lifting from her lips. "Do you mean that?"

"'Course I do," he said, holding up the half-bitten cookie that was still in his hand. "Because now they're missing out on some seriously _epic_ butterscotch cookies."

"Is food the only thing you ever think about?"

"Soccer, too. And sex."

" _Ugh_. I regret asking."

Tai began to laugh and the sound was so infectious that Mimi couldn't help but join in, too. As the night wore on, the pair sat together, split the remainder of the cookie, and continued to admire the twinkling stars above them — until a small shiver ran through Mimi's slight frame.

"Let's head back inside before _your highness_ catches a cold," Tai suggested lightly.

The house was silent and pitch black when they crept in through the back door — even wily little Miko had settled down in the corner for the night. Tai, who figured that Mimi might have some trouble navigating through an unfamiliar house in the dark, subtly took the girl's hand as he quietly led her up the stairs. And that was the _only_ reason, he firmly told himself.

Tai took her to the end of the hall, right outside the door to the guest bedroom. Only then did her soft, dainty hand slide out of his own. The boy shifted his weight back and forth, suddenly feeling a bit awkward as he concluded with an anticlimactic, "So… goodnight."

"Goodnight," Mimi replied, her lips curving upward. Tai's heart inexplicably skipped a beat. He could still remember the way those very lips had traced nearly every surface of his body.

He swallowed thickly around an imaginary lump in his throat and turned to make his way back to his own room. His hand reached for the doorknob, but something stopped him. He spun around again.

"Hey, Mimi."

From two doors down, the girl looked up.

"I guess I just wanna say that… I'm glad you're here. I mean, I know you didn't really have anywhere else to go and, technically, I'm not the one who invited you, but — I just — it's cool… y'know? To have you around and hang out a little more and —"

Somewhere amidst his ramblings, Mimi started to make her way toward him, padding gently across the wooden floorboards as to not disturb the other residents.

"Tai?"

"Yeah?" He answered all too quickly, relieved that she had interrupted him before he said something truly embarrassing.

Her deliberate stride barely faltered as she reached for the collar of his shirt, gathering the soft fabric into her tiny fists. "You can shut up now," she grinned.

Maybe he leaned in first. Maybe Mimi dragged him down by his shirt collar before he could even process anything. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. Tai wasn't quite certain how it happened, but as soon as he felt his lips crash into hers, he found himself no longer caring about the petty details. He reacted quickly, though, as if he'd been waiting for this all day. One hand pressed securely on the small of her back to keep her close, while the other fumbled around behind him in a desperate attempt to find the doorknob. When his hand finally made contact with the cool metal, Mimi pushed into him, sending him nearly tumbling backwards through the doorway. Somehow, the door managed to close behind them. Mimi didn't stop moving them backwards until the back of Tai's knees bumped into the mattress.

"But we're still just friends," he reminded her between kisses. "Right?"

Mimi pushed him down onto the bed, straddled his lap, and met his gaze with the most enticing pair of eyes Tai had ever seen.

"Just friends," she affirmed.

There wasn't much conversation after that.

* * *

 

**November 27th, 2015**

Kari stirred awake when she heard the first text message chime from her phone, but she ignored it. The blinking green numbers on the digital clock told her that it was well past midnight. Whoever had texted her could wait until it was a decent hour.

The second chime came a few minutes later. Again, her eyes fluttered open drowsily to watch the phone screen glow to life. She flipped over onto her opposite side, pressing her face into the pillow.

But the third chime was the final straw. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but each little jingle sounded like it was getting louder and louder and _louder_ …

She rolled over and snatched the phone off the bedside table with an exasperated huff. Her thumb hovered threateningly over the power button until her half-lidded eyes managed to catch the name that was lighting up her phone screen. In fact, it was perhaps the only name that could've brought her to such a quick halt — _TK_.

It was strange, she thought, how a simple late-night text message was able to bring back such strong and distinct memories from her past. _Their_ past. It reminded her of falling asleep to the sound of his drowsy voice over the phone. Or waking up with her phone clutched tightly in her hand with an unfinished text conversation on the screen, uncertain of when exactly she'd dozed off. Maybe TK could remember those nights, too. And maybe he looked back on them just as fondly as Kari did.

Although she mentally scolded herself for it, Kari couldn't keep her bleary eyes from scanning the messages across her screen.

 **TK [2:05am]:** Kari.  
 **TK [2:08am]:** Awake?  
 **TK [2:09am]:** Awake now?

The next text arrived when the phone was still in Kari's hand.

 **TK [2:10am]:** Wanna take a walk? For old times sake?

A new batch of vivid memories swarmed Kari's mind. Late-night strolls were once an anticipated part of their routine. Spending a majority of their waking hours together just wasn't enough for the young couple and, so, while the rest of the world was sleeping, they would take to the streets of their neighborhood. Sometimes they would stop at the nearby elementary school to climb on the playground equipment, taking turns pushing each other on the swings and seeing who could make it the farthest on the monkey bars. And sometimes they would walk to the park where the clouds always seemed to open up to a gorgeous view of each and every constellation in the sky.

Their most recent walk had also been their last. But that was a particular memory that wasn't quite as fond as the rest.

Despite her better judgement, Kari swiped her finger across the screen, thumb poised above the keypad as she racked her groggy brain for a response.

 **KARI [2:12am]:** I don't know where mom and dad put the spare key. Can't sneak out without it. :(

TK's response popped up barely five seconds later.

 **TK [2:12am]:** Use the window!

The girl cracked a disbelieving grin as she typed out her next message.

 **KARI [2:12am]:** Was that a joke?

 **TK [2:12am]:** C'mooooon, Kari.

Her phone screen dimmed until it fell asleep completely, so Kari placed it back onto the nightstand and returned her head to its rightful position on her pillow. She could already feel her consciousness start to drift when…

 _Bling_.

Her eyes snapped open once again. Kari had always had a natural penchant for patience and understanding, but now that her first opportunity for a decent night's sleep since the beginning of the semester was in jeopardy because of her ex-boyfriend's antics, she considered herself officially _not_ responsible for her actions. She was already drafting out a strongly worded reply in her mind as she swiped the phone off the nightstand. TK's most recent text was waiting unobtrusively on the screen.

 **TK [2:16am]:** Live a little.

'… _it wouldn't kill you to play hookie every once and a while…'_

'… _they're just a little… you could say… lifeless…'_

'… _take a break from all your commitments and focus on what you want…'_

'… _you matter, too, Kari…'_

It didn't take her very long to slip into a change of clothes and quietly scamper down the stairs. After all, the window by the front door was the easiest to open.

* * *

 

**November 23rd, 2015**

**TO:** [Mom]  
 **FROM:** [Sora Takenouchi]  
 **SUBJECT:** Re:Re: Thanksgiving Recipes

Mom,

Change of plans. Matt isn't coming. Something about his rehearsal schedule getting moved around… I don't know all the details, but the point is that he won't be able to make it to Thanksgiving. Sorry for the late notice.

I can't wait to see you and dad.

\- Sora

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** Flashbacks always get me right in the feels, guys. Every. Single. Time. Also - for those of you who predicted that Tai and Mimi wouldn't be able to control themselves for long, well... you were right, haha. And while the parents were in the house?! For shame! Let's just hope that the Kamiyas are heavy sleepers. I apologize for this chapter being a little light on the TK/Kari plot, but don't worry, Takari shippers. Your time is coming!

And now, per usual, I want to say how much I appreciate every single one of you for reading/reviewing my fic. Someday I will find the proper words to express my love, but I'm already 2000 words over my usual limit, so I better save that for another night. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** In my defense, I had to go out of town, like, three times this month, which made finding time to write a little tricky. That's my excuse for such a long wait on this chapter and I'm sticking to it! But in all seriousness - as always, thank you to everyone for being patient. Hopefully this chapter will lift your spirits a little bit! Actually, it probably won't. It's pretty damn depressing. Oops, spoiler alert? Kinda? ;)

 **About Us**  
Chapter 9

* * *

 

**November 27th, 2015**

**TAI [10:31am]:** Don't think I didn't notice that you snuck out last night to hang with TK.  
**TAI [10:31am]:** I thought we talked about this.  
**TAI [10:31am]:** No more boys until you're thirty!

 **KARI [10:34am]:** And don't think I didn't notice that Mimi spent the night in your room last night.  
**KARI [10:34am]:** :)

 **TAI [10:36am]:** Well played, sis.

* * *

**December 5th, 2015**

"Friends with benefits?"

Tai winced. Sora had spoken those words with so much contempt that it almost felt like a physical slap in the face.

"Hey, you said you wouldn't judge," he reminded her.

"I never said that."

"Oh, right — because you're a _terrible_ friend."

The redhead shoved him, and Tai nearly tripped off the edge of the sidewalk, stumbling for balance. Their Saturday morning jogs usually involved a lot more racing and much less conversation, but they'd barely made it through the first mile when Tai dropped the bomb about his latest development with Mimi — admittedly, not his wisest decision — and Sora was far too overwhelmed to even consider keeping her opinions to herself. And so they opted for a brisk stroll at best, weaving their way through campus before the sun had even risen. It required every ounce of willpower in Tai's itching muscles to keep himself from leaving Sora in the dust. At least then he could escape the inevitable lecture.

"Trying to talk some sense into you before you make a huge mistake does _not_ make me a terrible friend," she defended.

Tai kicked at the gray piles of winter slush that had collected along the curb as they walked, his mouth puckered in disgruntlement. "Who says it's a mistake?"

Sora threw him a look. "C'mon, Tai, think about how long we've known each other. I _know_ how you treat girls. You've never had a real, honest relationship before — just a bunch of casual flings that usually end after a couple months when you get bored or when you say something stupid to make her upset."

"Yeah, and your point?"

"I can't stand by and watch you turn Mimi into just another one of your flings," said Sora. "She deserves better than that."

A loud, exaggerated sigh blew past Tai's lips as he explained, "Look, it's not like I forced her into all this, okay? This is _Mimi_ we're talking about — you can't get that girl to do _anything_ that she doesn't want to do. _She's_ the one who practically threw herself at _me_." His expression turned smug in an instant, his mind undoubtedly filling with vulgar memories from those intimate nights. "Like, she _really_ went for it. I mean, it was like a scene straight outta Animal Planet the way she —"

"I don't need details, Tai!" Sora cried.

"Fine," he shrugged, clearly unaffected by her disgust. "But all I'm saying is that this is way less complicated than you think it is. _That's_ the beauty of casual sex."

The redhead mumbled under her breath, "It's always complicated when there are feelings involved."

But Tai heard, and the words struck him with such horror that he froze in his tracks. Sora carried on a few steps ahead until she realized that he'd stopped, then she spun around, arms crossed, and braced herself for the denial that was bound to follow.

"Whoa, whoa, wh — _feelings_?" the brunet nearly choked on a humorless chuckle. "I don't think you're quite grasping the whole 'friends with benefits' concept here, Miss Monogamy."

"So you're telling me that you don't have any feelings for her at all?" Sora interrogated.

"Bingo."

"You're such a liar," she approached him slowly, still holding her ground with unwavering determination. "Then why did you agree to let her spend Thanksgiving with your family? And why did you even volunteer to be in her showcase in the first place?"

They were suddenly standing almost nose to nose, despite their height difference, which normally wouldn't have struck him as awkward if she hadn't asked that particular question. Because now Tai was painfully aware that the answer was staring him straight in the face — literally.

"Because I…" and then she blinked at him with those burgundy eyes and he forced out the first excuse that popped into his head, "have a new appreciation for the performing arts."

Sora's gaze narrowed suspiciously. "You can't even sit through _Grease_ without falling asleep."

"Then maybe they should've put that chick in a leather bodysuit at the _beginning_ of the movie!"

"Stop deflecting, Tai," she ordered. "You're scared."

That time he did chuckle — a peculiar, strangled noise that was far too deranged to be considered calm, cool, or collected. When he noticed that Sora's accusing expression hadn't changed, he parried, "Scared of _what_?"

"Of the possibility that this time could be different from the others," her steadfast stare was impossibly focused. Tai wanted to look away, but he just couldn't. He also wanted to open his mouth, laugh in her face, and boast his impeccable courage, but that wasn't happening either. And so he did the only other thing he could think of:

He deflected some more.

"Okay, so you're, what, some kinda relationship wizard now? Seems a little fishy to take advice from someone who can't even talk to her own boyfriend about —"

Sora flinched, looking a bit stung, and Tai immediately felt the sharp pangs of regret. The girl was watching him with wide eyes, barely breathing like she feared where he was going with that sentence, and Tai knew better than to let her find out.

"Shit," he sighed. "I didn't mean to say that, Sora. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," she shifted away, just to avoid his sympathetic gaze. "You're not wrong. I've been waiting for the right moment, but… maybe there just isn't one."

Tai straightened his spine and plastered on a grin that he hoped would be infectious enough to lift her spirits. "Well, you know what _I_ think you should do?"

The corner of her mouth lifted in the subtlest manner, but he still considered it a minor success. "I'm afraid to know," she said.

"If Mister Big Shot isn't gonna make the first move, then you should march right up to him and ask _him_ out."

Sora appeared a bit skeptical as she asked, "Ask him out?"

"Yeah, like on a date," Tai elaborated. "A cheesy, old-fashioned date. And _don't_ take no for an answer, got it? Go out, eat some good food, make the bastard pay, and just get your old groove back. That's all you need. 'Cause let's face it — you and I both know that Matt doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. He probably just needs a little push, that's all."

His words were unexpected, as Sora's bemused expression seemed to imply, but certainly not unsound. In truth, the redhead had been anticipating something far less genuine — perhaps a crude joke at Matt's expense — which is why she felt her prickly disposition immediately begin to soften. Tai always seemed to have that effect on her, catching her off-guard in the best possible way, even at the most inopportune moments. And even when it meant pushing her into the arms of another man.

"That was…" Sora blinked. "Surprisingly good advice."

"Yep," he beamed with pride and held out an expectant palm. "That'll be twenty bucks."

She snorted out an incredulous laugh, shoving his hand away dismissively. "Oh, nice try."

"Tell you what," the boy began. He pointed a finger into the distance, his gaze squinting into the reddish sunlight that was just starting to rise over the horizon. "If you can beat me to the archway up ahead, I'll make it a generous ten. That's a bargain, Takenouchi."

Triumph was already edging its way into his grin, an unspoken challenge that Sora just couldn't refuse. And so, with the day's fresh sunshine peeking through the clouds and warming her skin, she grinned back.

"You just don't know when to quit, Kamiya."

She took off running, and he was hot on her trail.

* * *

**December 8th, 2015**

"Is he flirting? Ohmigod, I think he's _flirting_."

Yolei's voice wasn't anything close to a whisper, earning her a stern _shush_ from the crabby librarian at the front desk. The purple-haired student ducked behind her laptop screen in embarrassment, but reemerged soon after to catch another glimpse.

"Are you seeing this? He's _totally_ flirting," she announced again, at a more appropriate volume.

Kari heaved a sigh. They were supposed to be studying for their upcoming midterm exams, but, for the past fifteen minutes, Yolei had decided to take an interest in studying her roommate's ex-boyfriend instead. Kari really didn't want to give her excitable friend the satisfaction of a response — especially over something so trivial — but she was just so very _curious_. So, casually, she turned her attention away from the open textbook in front of her and over toward the back corner of the campus library.

Straining onto her toes and reaching for the top shelf of the French Literature section was Catherine. And Kari's gaze found her just in time to watch TK enter the scene, easily grabbing the book that was just out of the girl's reach. Catherine grinned when the book was handed to her, lips moving quickly with what Kari assumed to be gratitude. TK smiled back and opened his mouth to reply, most likely, that it was his pleasure.

"He's not flirting," Kari muttered resolutely, returning to her textbook.

Yolei clicked her tongue in disagreement. "Yeah, right. Just look at that body language — now _that_ is the stance of a man who knows what he wants."

Kari looked again, her patience wearing thin. The pair was now chatting buoyantly in the vacant aisle. Catherine held her book tight against her chest with one hand while the other was busy twirling wavy locks of golden hair around her finger. TK's eyes were bright with interest, propping an elbow on the book shelf and leaning in close, hanging on the girl's every soft-spoken word.

"It's just TK," the brunette insisted. "That's how he talks to _everyone_."

"Hmm," Yolei's narrowed gaze focused on her roommate. "Kinda sounds like you're a little _jealous_ , Kari."

"Shouldn't you be studying?"

"Ohmigod, you're jealous!"

"I am not!"

" _Shhhh_!" The librarian hissed again.

Both girls shrunk down in their seats when they felt the entire room lay eyes on them. Kari buried her red cheeks into her textbook, nose nearly pressed against the open page. She was _not_ jealous. TK was _not_ flirting. And she refused to believe anything else. Not that she cared.

"Hey there, troublemakers. _Some_ of us are trying to study, you know."

At first, Kari thought that she'd only imagined TK's cheerful lilt, like her mind playing a cruel trick, but when she craned her neck upward at the sound, the blond boy was, indeed, standing beside their table with a smirk plastered on his lips. Catherine, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen. Kari willed herself to speak, ideally with a calm and witty retort that would indicate how enraptured they'd just been in their studies — definitely _not_ spending their library time spying on TK's possible romantic endeavors.

But Yolei beat her to the punch, eyebrows wagging suggestively. "Yeah, it _really_ looked like you were studying, alright. Enjoy your little _rendezvous_ in French Lit?"

TK snorted with amusement. If he was even the slightest bit taken aback by the girl's accusation, then he didn't let it show. "My what?"

"Ignore her," Kari piped up quickly. "Yolei's been binging on _90210_ reruns all week, so she thinks that every private conversation is the start of a secret love affair."

"Oh," he said, feigning naivety. "You mean me and Catherine?"

Yolei crossed her arms in defiant victory and leaned over to stage-whisper in her roommate's ear, "Notice how he doesn't deny it."

"We were just talking about how boring our French professor is, then she asked how the article about the band was coming along. And one thing led to another…"

"See?" The bespectacled girl nudged Kari with a sharp elbow. " _Told_ you."

"—and so I ended up inviting her to Matt's album launch party."

The only sound that followed was that of Kari's pen plopping onto the tabletop from her suddenly limp fingers. As she scrambled to pick it up, she noticed Yolei's dropped jaw and an alarmingly exhilarated twinkle in her eye. Kari could only imagine what kind of ridiculous theories were beginning to take shape inside her friend's drama-hungry mind.

"So, you mean," she leaned her chin into her palm. "Like a date?"

TK's mouth twitched upward a quarter of an inch more, suppressing what was assumed to be a chuckle. "You could say that."

"Ohmigod!" A third, more agitated shush from the exasperated librarian had Yolei immediately correcting her volume to a whisper once again. " _Ohmigod_."

Kari, however, certainly didn't appear to share her friend's giddiness. She kept her head down, determinedly so, as she scribbled notes in the corner of her textbook pages, even though her mind was stuck reading the last sentence on repeat. Maybe if she pretended to be disinterested enough, then TK would find some other poor soul to bother — someone who wasn't so conflictingly irritated _and_ bewitched by that charming smirk and that beanie on top of his stupid, handsome head.

"I mean," TK began, promptly foiling Kari's farfetched strategy. "As long as my writing partner doesn't mind."

His words were purposeful and calculated. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing. In that moment, Kari could've easily lost her temper, scolding him for playing such childish games just to get a rise out of her. Which is why she was rightfully proud of herself when she looked up and replied with a very calm, very dignified, and only twenty percent annoyed, "No, I don't mind —"

There was the smallest of pauses, and then:

"—because I was going to ask Davis to come with me."

The last part escaped her lips quite by accident, and she immediately regretted speaking them, even if the resulting expression on TK's face was admittedly priceless. His eyebrows moved restlessly, knitting together through a plethora of different emotions — confusion, worry, more confusion. Kari held her own with an unwavering pokerface, but her mind was still panicking about her brash announcement. Why, oh why, did she have to make the situation even more complicated?

TK stared. "Really?"

"Yes." No.

"Davis?"

"Yes." _No_.

"Davis _Motomiya_?"

" _Yes_." _Stop_.

"Well," he fidgeted a bit aimlessly, a nervous yet endearing habit of his. "Good for you, then."

Kari was equally uncomfortable, but managed to keep what little composure she had left as she replied, "Thank you."

"So I guess I should let you two get back to your, uh, _studying_ ," said TK.

"I guess so," Kari offered him a smile, sweet but dismissive, before lowering her face to her textbook again. She waited until she spotted TK's tall figure returning to the bookshelves, then released a long breath that she'd been holding, drooping like a miserable balloon.

From the corner of her eye, Yolei, who had fallen uncharacteristically quiet during the exchange, was shaking her head disapprovingly. "We've been roommates for a whole semester now and you're still a below average liar," she sighed. "I feel so ashamed."

" _You_ feel ashamed? I just lied. A _huge_ lie. I _never_ lie like that," Kari's pitch subtly rose as she spoke, ensuing anxiety creeping into her voice. "There must be something wrong with me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Yolei replied flippantly. "Your intentions were _genius_ , but your execution…" then she pulled a face. "Personally, I would've added in a few more hair tosses and maybe a comment or two about how good Davis looks in dress pants."

Her frown deepened. "I'm being serious. Besides, I doubt that Davis even _owns_ a pair of dress pants."

"Well, you know what happens now, right?"

Kari shook her head, even though her roommate's devious grin spoke louder than her words.

Yolei leaned back in her chair, clearly pleased with herself, and moved her round glasses down the bridge of her nose to peer at the other girl over the top of them. "You go snag yourself a date to that party."

* * *

**December 12th, 2015**

The dressing room was abuzz with excited band members, laughing, chatting, and tuning their instruments. As soon as Sora appeared in the doorway, timid and unsure, all eyes landed on her like she was a wary traveler who'd unknowingly stumbled into foreign territory. She couldn't help feeling that maybe that wasn't too far from the truth.

The bandmates greeted her with halfhearted choruses of "hey, Sora" and "what's goin' on". She waved distractedly.

"Hi, guys. Break a leg tonight," her gaze wandered to Matt, who had barely looked up from his guitar since her arrival. "Um… Could I have a minute alone with Matt?"

 _That_ certainly captured his attention. The blond frontman snapped up, meeting his girlfriend's eyes, which were calm and still despite the way she shuffled her weight back and forth uneasily. The other band members gathered their belongings, some offering Matt a quick pat on the back — whether it was out of camaraderie or condolence, Sora wasn't sure — before filing out the door. She waited until their footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Only then did she step inside the room and close the door behind her.

"Hey, beautiful," Matt greeted lightly, testing the waters. He set his guitar aside as he rose from his chair and it was then, as he moved toward the redhead before him, that he detected the subtle traces of restlessness in those seemingly placid eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, I just…" Sora was struggling and Matt knew it. It appeared to require all her courage to finish her sentence with, "I wanted to know what you're up to after the show tonight."

"Tonight?" The boy racked his brain. "Well, there's a meet-and-greet in the lobby as always and, after that, Fox is taking all of us out to this new club downtown to celebrate —"

"Would you like to go on a date with me? Tonight?"

Matt's eyebrows nearly lifted all the way to his hairline. "A date?"

"Yeah," she said. The puzzlement in his tone wasn't very encouraging. "It's been a while, but, hopefully, you still remember what that is."

"Of course I do, it's just…" his eyes flickered downward, then over toward the door, and finally settled back on Sora with far less attentiveness than before. "Tonight's a little slammed. Maybe we could do it another time —"

Tai's advice was echoing loud and proud inside her head when she interrupted firmly, "If it doesn't happen tonight, then it'll never happen."

Again, Matt appeared a bit uncertain toward his girlfriend's sudden urgency. "You know that isn't true," he told her.

"All I'm asking for is one night. Just one date."

There was rarely a moment when Sora wasn't unduly respectful of someone else's needs — or time, or schedule, or feelings. She was always impossibly kindhearted. Considerate to a fault. And even in that moment, as she stood before her boyfriend and made her desires abundantly clear, she still wasn't asking for too much. A single evening filled with his company and nothing more. That was it.

Matt stepped forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before murmuring a soft and long-awaited, "Okay."

* * *

**November 27th, 2015**

"Tell me a secret."

They lay on their backs in the middle of the grassy park, watching the vast splattering of tiny stars light up the night sky. Kari turned her head to raise an eyebrow at him, but TK's eyes were closed, smiling only to himself.

"We don't have secrets," she reminded him. "You already know everything."

"Everyone has a secret, Kari," said TK, and it sounded like a playful melody. "C'mon. Something that nobody else knows."

She scrunched up her dainty nose while she thought, humoring him. "Well," she started cautiously. "Sometimes I look at the answers to a crossword puzzle before I've finished it."

The sound of TK's laughter was so booming and exuberant that it seemed to echo off the vacant playground equipment. "Hikari Kamiya, you _monster_ ," he teased.

"You asked for a secret," Kari looked at him again, all pink-cheeked and biting her bottom lip to suppress a broad grin.

"And it was the most adorable thing I've ever heard," his arm draped over his stomach as he began to catch his breath. "But I meant — something bigger. Something that keeps you up at night."

His amusement faded back into silence and Kari began to think again, harder this time. She wasn't used to voicing her own private thoughts and unlocking them — let alone verbalizing them — made her stomach churn with unnerving uncertainty. After a long pause, TK began shifting slowly at her side, perhaps on the verge of changing the subject after detecting Kari's unspoken reluctance. However, he never had the chance to because the girl finally spoke up.

"I'm tired," she revealed quietly. "Of all my responsibilities. Of always putting myself second."

"Then don't," TK said simply.

He always made it sound so easy. Kari smiled solemnly, connecting the dots between specks of starlight with her gaze. "I'll try," she promised, and then with a bit more ease in her tone she added, "Now it's your turn to share a secret."

TK hummed in contemplation, making a show of it by narrowing his eyes and stroking his chin. Kari giggled.

"Too many to choose from?" she guessed playfully.

"I'm just trying to figure out how I'm gonna top your crossword confession."

They laughed again, boisterous and uninhibited.

"Okay," he began after settling down. "I got it."

Kari rolled onto her side to face him, watching and waiting patiently. His expressive blue eyes were suddenly fixed on her, genuine, crystal clear, and undaunted as he admitted, "You're still my best friend."

She began to smile. "You're still mine, too."

They fell into another comfortable silence, but rather than watching the stars twinkle overhead, they gazed at the twinkle in each other's eyes instead.

"Thanks for kidnapping me tonight," Kari finally spoke.

"My pleasure."

* * *

**December 12th, 2015**

As they sat across from each other, smiling familiar smiles through the warm candlelight at one of their favorite restaurants, everything felt right.

Maybe it was foolish of Sora to think that one date could fix what was already broken, but right there, in that moment, she was hopeful — so very hopeful — because Matt was there with his burning blue eyes, watching her as if the world were trembling around him, yet she was his only anchor. And she would keep him grounded, happily so, if it meant that she could hold that gaze forever. They talked. They laughed. They shared food. They forgot what was bad and remembered what was good.

 _It doesn't have to be broken_ , she thought. _It can all go back to the way it was. It just had to._

The front door of Sora's apartment couldn't open fast enough for the couple as they stumbled through it later that evening. One foot had barely made it past the doorway before Matt's mouth was on Sora's neck, her fingers in his hair, and their jackets slipping off their shoulders, falling into a forgotten heap on the welcome mat. Somehow, he managed to kick the door closed without breaking his concentration. The click of the deadbolt locking behind them was followed by darkness — only dim casts of shadowy moonlight would occasionally spill through the thin, wispy curtains covering the windows. Though, admittedly, the pair couldn't be bothered to turn on any lights, nor did they need to. Their clumsy journey through the pitch black apartment to Sora's bedroom was a familiar one — rather, it _used_ to be. But judging by Matt's brisk, undeterred stride as he gently towed Sora backwards through the living room, he didn't need much of a reminder.

"We're alone…?" Matt wondered against her pale skin, and the low husk in his voice made Sora's breath hitch.

"We're alone," she confirmed, making a mental note to thank Mimi — for the hundredth time — for generously abandoning the apartment for the night with nothing more than a giddy trill of _don't do anything that I wouldn't do_. Which, in Sora's private opinion, didn't provide her with much limitation.

"Thank god," he said. "Because I'm _not_ holding back tonight."

"No one's asking you to," a chuckle was tangled up in Sora's words, although it escaped her lips more like a soft gasp. Matt's mouth was still grazing against her heated skin, wandering over her jawline, neck, shoulder, collarbone. The redhead simply clung tighter, pressing herself impossibly closer, and prayed that her knees wouldn't give out beneath her.

Miraculously, they found their way into the bedroom relatively unscathed. Matt might've almost tripped over one of Mimi's slippers that had been carelessly left in the middle of the floor, and Sora could've possibly bruised her shoulder after bumping into the doorframe, but neither seemed to care very much. In that particular moment, nothing else mattered except for hungry lips, greedy hands, and making up for lost time. Sora was vaguely aware of her back hitting the mattress, but even more aware of the absence of Matt's warmth. She blinked open her bleary eyes to watch her boyfriend toe off his shoes at the edge of the bed. In his haste, he fumbled, losing balance and catching himself right before he could fall on top of Sora's unsuspecting frame. Flushed, breathing heavy, and foreheads brushing together, they both began to laugh.

"We're a mess," she giggled, covering half of her face with her hand.

"Speak for yourself," Matt smirked and ran his fingers through her disheveled red hair. Sora didn't need a mirror to know that her short, uncooperative mane must've looked like a wreck. He chuckled as her cheeks turned a distinct shade of pink. She pushed at his shoulders, using all her might to roll them over until he was laying beneath her and she was straddling his lap with strong legs.

"If you're not holding back tonight," she told him. "Then neither am I."

Matt's hands reached out for the bottom of her sweater, teasing around the hem with an eager finger. "No one's asking you to."

Sora's gaze was sharp and unblinking as she gave in to the boy's subtle hint. With sure and steady hands, she peeled off her sweater, tossing it to the wayside. The lump in Matt's throat moved as he swallowed thickly, eyes roving over the top half of her exposed and perfect body. She was sun-kissed, even in the winter. Long, slim, strong. His hands reached out again, hesitant this time, as if asking for permission. Sora responded by lowering herself and covering his lips with her own.

It had been months since they shared a kiss like that, and there was something about the way Matt kissed her back, so giving and responsive, that made her feel like it had been worth the wait. In fact, she wasn't sure if he'd ever kissed her that way, like he needed it the way he needed oxygen. It made her head spin. It made her chest hurt. It made her think that maybe — just maybe — they would be okay after all. Sora's fingers were suddenly trembling as she worked on the buttons running down the front of Matt's shirt. When she found herself struggling, the redhead pulled away and it took every ounce of Matt's power not to follow after her mouth. Instead he focused on catching his breath while she focused on removing his shirt. The final pesky button was undone and Sora pushed the thin fabric away from his shoulders.

That's when she saw it.

In truth, it wasn't horribly obtrusive or tasteless like some that she'd seen before, but the dark ink still popped against the porcelain landscape of his bare chest. It sat just below his collarbone, right above his heart, and was lightly outlined by the faded redness of irritated skin. Her fingertips gently traced over the small design in what he probably thought was a loving, sensual gesture when, in reality, it was intended to remind her that, no, she wasn't imagining things. It was real.

"You got a tattoo," and it wasn't a question — merely an observation.

He looked thrown, wondering why she thought that now, in the heat of the moment, of all times, was a good one to discuss his new body art. "Yeah. Couple days ago."

Her fingers kept moving like a pendulum unable to escape its gravitational sway. "I didn't know," she murmured.

"The whole band got them done together. Fox thought it'd be a good bonding experience or something."

Matt's hands slid down the tops of her thighs, slow and wanting, but Sora's gaze remained fixed on his chest. She refused to budge even while he did his best to revive the spark that had died out so prematurely.

"What does K.O.D. stand for?" she asked, index finger tracing over those very letters in the center of the design.

"Knife of Day," he spoke distractedly as his hands settled on her hips. The singer's motions were calculated but gentle, hoping that, maybe, they could get back to what they had started. "It's the band's new name."

The pendulum froze mid-swing.

Her hand recoiled like she'd just touched fire. Burgundy eyes latched onto translucent blue, searching hard for the answers that just weren't there. For a moment, the room blurred and her chest heaved for a breath that her lungs had been desperately craving.

"New name?" Sora's voice didn't raise above a whisper. In fact, had Matt not been watching her lips twitch from use, he might not've known she had spoken at all.

"Yeah. Fox thought that The Teenaged Wolves sounded too adolescent. He wanted something stronger, edgier…"

His voice petered out gradually as his hands continued their intended trajectory along her waist. He was clearly disinterested by his own words, especially when there were more compelling things to be doing — unspeakably compelling things that involved the gorgeously disheveled redhead who was hovering over him.

"Doesn't matter," he concluded vaguely. "It doesn't matter right now. Let's talk about it later…"

He reached for her and then—

"— _No_."

The sudden firmness of her tone brought immediate pause to Matt's wandering hands, the neediness of them now rendered limp as Sora pushed them away. She shifted off of him, sitting on her knees toward the edge of the mattress, and didn't dismiss her unyielding glare as she told him, "We should talk about it _now_."

Matt deflated, blowing out a breath between tight lips that was intended to keep his patience in check just as much as it was meant to drag his lustful mind back to reality. "Okay," he agreed curtly as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Then talk. Why is this such a big deal?"

"Because I didn't even know the _name_ of my own boyfriend's band — my boyfriend who suddenly starts canceling on me last minute and who goes out to clubs after shows and decides to get _tattoos_ —"

"Sora, c'mon," he grumbled. "If you're seriously getting this worked up about a tattoo…"

"I don't care about the tattoo, Matt — I care that you didn't _tell_ me about it!"

Her anger only fueled his combative fire. Matt was sitting up straight now, cross-legged and facing Sora, fiercely defensive as he argued back, "I didn't think it was that important!"

"You didn't think the tattoo was that important?" For a brief flicker of a second, her blazing eyes mellowed with a layer of glossy desperation, but she caught herself before she continued, "Or you didn't think that _I_ was important enough to tell?"

That time, it was Matt who mellowed. His shoulders sank on his lean frame, seemingly wounded that she was capable of even thinking such things. "Sora — what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Don't you dare pretend like this is coming out of _nowhere_ ," she scolded. "Don't you _dare_ make me feel like I'm being _unreasonable_ —"

He tried again, "Sora—"

" _No_ — just —" she inhaled, thick and weighted. "Please. _Please_ let me say this."

Matt searched her face — for what, he wasn't sure — but he only found reddened cheeks and damp eyes that were brimming with more than just tears. They were filled with weeks of unspoken words, threatening to snap and snarl their way out from her conservative confines. He had the grace to resign his uncertainties, his urge to argue, and, with a single, nearly imperceptible nod, finally allowed her words to be heard.

Sora was looking at him with her head held high and her gaze full of fear, but her voice didn't waver when she said, "Something's changed."

He waited, the pause between her thoughts almost suffocating him.

"Ever since everything started happening with the band… We've changed, Matt. _You've_ changed. It's like — I don't know who you are anymore. And I've been trying to be supportive and give you the space you need to build your career because I know it's what you want, but now it just feels like…"

 _Like you don't even need me._ But she kept those words to herself. Allowing them to blossom from her lips made them undeniably real and she wasn't quite ready to admit that yet. With a clenched jaw, Sora looked away from those blue orbs that were, for the first time, suddenly and painfully unrecognizable. She was not going to cry. She was _not_ going to cry.

A rogue tear betrayed her, dripping from her eyelash and sliding a hot trail down her rosy cheek. Sora swiped the back of her hand across her face, sniffing deeply.

"You were right," she said quickly. "I think — maybe we should talk later."

Matt watched silently as Sora scooted off the bed and retreated into the bathroom, door shutting resolutely behind her. He should've followed after her. He should've knocked on the door and asked her to come out. This should've been the last time she felt her heart break. And somewhere in all that brokenness, they should've found their way back to each other, and finally talked of things that really mattered — of hurt, of fear, of trust, of loyalty, of love.

But he didn't. They didn't. And now it was a little too broken to fix.

* * *

**December 30th, 2015**

" _Hi, you've reached Sora. Sorry I can't take your call right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"_

BEEP.

"Honey, as your very best friend, we both know that I have the right to be brutally honest with you, even in times of crisis. So I'd just like to _kindly_ remind you that it comes from a place of love and compassion when I say that it's time for you to get off that perky little butt of yours and _answer my phone calls_. You promised that we could discuss wardrobe options for tomorrow. You know, for my New Years party? The most extravagant and monumentally _crucial_ social event of the school year? Ring any bells? I refuse to let you stay in all night just because you're sad, missy. It'll be good for you to face the public — and in a _stunning_ cocktail dress, might I add.

"… I know it isn't easy, Sora. Smiling through the pain is perhaps the hardest thing a girl has to do, but if I can do it, then I'm positive that you can, too. You've always been stronger than me, you know. Do _not_ let this ruin a perfectly lovely New Years celebration, alright? That would just be stupid.

"And speaking of _stupidity_ … Please remind Taichi that he is still very much _uninvited_. I'm sure you're well aware that he and I are _not_ on speaking terms — and it _still_ baffles me that you two are after what he did, but _whatever_. At least it means that someone can inform him that stepping foot anywhere near the premises of my party tomorrow night will be the _last_ bad decision he ever makes. Let him know the _second_ he starts talking about it.

"He has been talking about it, hasn't he?

"… Oh — _never mind_. Call me back! Kisses!"

* * *

**December 13th, 2015**

The rest of the night passed in agonizing, heart-rending, mind-screaming hours, minutes, and seconds. It was well past midnight when Matt stirred restlessly from where he'd fallen asleep on the living room couch. He was intensely aware of the monotonous ticking coming from the decorative clock on the wall, the numbing hum of the radiator, and the faint _drip, drip, drip_ of melting snow falling against the window sill outside. The mundane cacophony roared in his ears like a blaring siren, pounding against his skull and depriving him of a peaceful slumber.

But Matt knew that it was more than just the chaotic background noise that was keeping him awake. It was the haunting memory of Sora's teary eyes and piercing words.

He'd forgotten when he'd dozed off exactly, but it was after he'd spent a good twenty minutes waiting outside the locked bathroom door. She didn't speak. In fact, she'd hardly made a sound at all. But whatever she was doing, it was to be done alone. And so Matt had wandered to the couch, already unconscious by the time the door creaked open to reveal the redhead, fragile and drained, as she dragged herself into bed.

_Tick-tock. Huuum. Drip, drip, drip…_

Matt couldn't stand it any longer. He rolled himself off the couch with muscles that were already aching from the cramped sleeping arrangement, and padded over to Sora's room. It was dark when he peeked inside, but he could still make out that she was curled tightly beneath the bedsheets, motionless and still aside from the gradual rise and fall of her back as she breathed. He took another hesitant step into the room, casting a lean shadow across her sleeping frame. Sora rustled around a bit. Her hand slipped out from beneath the sheets and slid against the vacant mattress, blindly seeking out some familiar warmth that was no longer there. Her limbs stilled once again.

His fists clenched at his sides. His chest throbbed with every inhale. His heart lurched forward at the sight of the girl he swore he'd never hurt.

Even in the darkness, Matt caught a glimpse of his reflection staring back at him in Sora's mirror against the wall, but all he could see was the inky black outline of the tattoo he so suddenly resented — visible and undeniable proof that he'd chosen success over love. A permanent reminder of everything he'd willingly destroyed. The blond reached angrily for his shirt, which had been strewn atop a pile of papers at the foot of Sora's desk. As he yanked on the article of clothing, a few papers came with it, scattering softly to the floor like leaves in a breeze.

He would have ignored it. He would have finished buttoning his shirt, but a dreadfully recognizable emblem at the top of one of the papers captured his attention. Carefully, Matt picked it up from the fallen pile.

 _Sora Takenouchi,  
_ _Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into…_

The paper wrinkled in Matt's iron grip as he tried to hold it steady in front of his face. His blue eyes shifted from warm sea to glacial chill in an instant. He stole a glance at Sora, who was still sound asleep and utterly unaware of the truths that her boyfriend had just uncovered. She had demanded honesty and communication, but had, apparently, neglected to tell him that she would be moving miles and miles away by the end of the school year. It seemed like he wasn't the only one who had been keeping secrets. It seemed like their invisible tether was continuing to stretch and fray. It seemed like…

_Like she doesn't even need me._

Matt dropped the paper, letting it float back down to the floor with the others. He looked over at Sora again, but she didn't even wiggle an inch. She had no idea what she was doing — ripping him apart until his edges were raw and tender. Matt collected the rest of his belongings, walked back through the apartment, and shut the door when he fled, leaving the ever noisy silence behind him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** It's _about time_ we got to some Sorato angst, am I right (she said through her tears)?! I hope you all stick around to see how the rest of the story will unfold! A million virtual hugs to all who have reviewed/followed/favorited. It really means the world to me. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** I feel like I always preface my chapters with some kind of half-assed explanation as to why I've been the _worst updater in the history of forever no I'm not dramatic at all why do you ask_. I won't bore you all with details, but real life things at work have been getting crazy busy lately and, ya know, gotta pay those bills. Yay, adulthood. BUT, let me just say that I do _not_ plan on abandoning this fic. I _promise_. We're getting so close to the home stretch, it would just be plain mean to leave everyone hanging now. And I'm not that evil. Kinda. Maybe. Sometimes. To be determined.

That was a joke. And a bad one at that. Let's just move right ahead to the good stuff!

 **About Us**  
Chapter 10

* * *

**December 19th, 2015**

"Remember when Christmas shopping used to be fun?" Tai wondered aloud.

Kari looked up from the clothing rack she'd been casually perusing to find her disgruntled brother a few feet away, mulling over a display case of antique brooches with avid disinterest.

"I still think it's fun," she said as she plucked a lavender sweater from the haphazard collection of clothes. Yolei had always looked good in purple so she draped it over her arm along with the other maybes. "What's wrong with it now?"

"There's just so much _pressure_ now, y'know?" With a laborious sigh, Tai stepped away from the brooches, tailing behind Kari with the kind of overzealous dramatics that never failed to make her choke back a laugh. "Like, if you get someone something small, then you're cheap. But if you get someone something too meaningful, it gives the wrong impression. And if you decide to forget the whole gift thing altogether, then you're a heartless asshole. We can't win!" he concluded with an exasperated hand gesture for good measure.

Kari cast him a sideways glance, full of amusement, but ever calm and wise beyond her years. "I think you're just overthinking it. Nobody actually reads that much into presents. After all, it's the thought that counts."

"Yeah, but," Tai began, mumbling indignantly. "This year is different."

"Because you have a girlfriend?"

"Hey," he snapped, following a little closer behind his unaffected sister, most likely in hopes of intimidation, but the subtle flush against his cheeks already denied him of that. "I don't have a girlfriend, okay? I have a… Mimi."

Kari couldn't help the gentle chuckle that escaped past her upturned lips. She peeled her attention away from the rack long enough to match Tai's steady glare. "You don't know what to get her."

It wasn't a question, which Tai resented just a tiny bit, but he knew she was still right. "It's not my fault that you girls are impossible to shop for," he defended. "I mean, you remember the whole hair clip fiasco with Sora, right?"

"You mean the hair clip that she wore to school every day in the sixth grade?" Kari reminded him. Tai didn't respond — he simply averted his gaze with undeclared defeat and tugged aimlessly on the sleeve of a nearby fur jacket. "So maybe it blew up in your face a little bit, but, at the end of the day, a gift from someone you care about is still special."

Tai continued to glare, but it didn't take long before his gaze started to soften. Sometimes he had to stop and wonder when exactly his baby sister had grown up into such a smart and formidable young woman. Then again, he thought, despite their age difference, she had always been at least one step ahead of him.

"Aren't I the one who's supposed to be giving _you_ important life advice?" he asked, making Kari giggle.

"Don't worry," the younger sibling grinned. "I won't tell anyone that you've been slacking on your big brotherly duties."

He scrunched up his nose, sticking his tongue out at her like he always used to as a child. Kari adjusted the growing pile of clothes on her arm and quickly became aware of the dull ache in her muscle from the weight. "I should probably find us a cart," she said. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Tai gave her a distracted thumbs-up while she wandered off through the department store. As inspiring as Kari's words might have been, he still didn't know what to get Mimi for Christmas. He had humored the cheeky idea of festive lingerie, but thought better of it when he realized that it would only end in another one of her longwinded feminist rants. And hair accessories were simply out of the question, having been permanently scarred by Sora's rampage all those years ago. His brown eyes scanned the store with a fair amount of hopelessness when he suddenly perked up at the glimmering sight of the jewelry department.

Mimi couldn't possibly turn her nose up at something that was sparkly, could she?

He was drawn to the counter like a magnet, palms splayed against the glass case as he peered down at the rows and rows of gemstones with inquisitive eyes. Barely a minute had passed before he was approached by an eager salesperson.

"Shopping for someone special?"

Tai jumped as if he'd been caught committing a crime, but the elderly woman's kind smile suggested nothing of the sort. She stood before him, overly attentive while the boy collected his bearings — what was left of them, anyway.

"Um, kinda," he drawled cautiously. "It's for a girl… friend. A friend who's a girl."

"I see," said the saleswoman, clearly mistaking Tai's apprehension for some form of smitten puppy love. She waved a graceful hand to the right, showcasing a few of the finer artifacts. "Well, we have a lovely selection of twenty-four carat bands over here…"

A single glance at the price tags had Tai shaking his head fervently. "Actually — uh — I'm looking for something more along the lines of 'I-really-like-hanging-out-with-you-and-the-sex-is-amazing-but-I'm-still-not-looking-for-anything-serious'. Got anything like that?"

"Oh, my… well, ah, let's see here…" the woman stammered uncomfortably as she flitted to the other end of the countertop. She began murmuring something about cubic zirconia when Tai's attention was captured by a sudden twinkle.

His eyes immediately landed on the source — a dainty gold charm in the shape of a star, looped by a thin cable chain that shone almost as brilliantly as the miniature white diamonds outlining the pendent. It was so very delicate, but so very difficult to ignore. Just like Mimi.

"Ma'am? Sorry, yeah, excuse me?" Tai jammed an anxious finger against the glass case. "What about that one? How much for that one?"

The flustered saleswoman returned when she was summoned, following the direction of Tai's finger with her gaze. "Ah, the star pendent? Two hundred ninety-five."

Tai openly blanched. "Two hundred…"

"Well, it's a fourteen carat yellow gold pendent with white diamond detailing so —"

The explanation was tuned out by his apathetic ears. Tai knew precisely why the price was so steep — because he'd stumbled upon the perfect gift. He could already imagine the gold necklace resting gently against the creamy skin of her neck. And, more importantly, he could already imagine that captivating smile — the one that did inexplicably bizarre things to his heartbeat — that would undoubtedly appear on her lips as she unwrapped it.

And, in his mind, there was no price that could compete with knowing that he was responsible for putting such a smile on her face.

The saleswoman stopped mid-sentence when Tai slammed his wallet ceremoniously onto the counter.

"I'll take it."

* * *

**December 20th, 2015**

It was a relatively quiet Sunday evening at the apartment until Mimi stormed into Sora's bedroom wearing a thin nightgown and a pair of bunny slippers, her recently washed hair piled atop her head beneath a towel turban. She was a ridiculous sight, but one that Sora was already quite familiar with.

"Try this on."

When those words were spoken from Mimi Tachikawa's mouth, they held the same power as a godlike commandment — unrelenting and irrefutable. From her bed, Sora looked over at the slinky black dress in her roommates' arms, frowned, and then returned her attention to her sketchbook.

"I don't think — "

"Oh, shush," the tiny brunette bounded forward and leapt onto the bed, causing Sora's pencil to go haywire across the page. "It's just a little something I found hidden away in my closet and — lookie here! — it's just your size."

Sora lifted a skeptical brow. "I can see the price tag, Mimi."

"Well, at least it was on _sale_!"

"It doesn't matter," the redhead insisted, pushing her fringe off of her forehead with an agitated hand as she stared down at the ruined sketch before her. "I'm busy right now."

A pout worked its way onto Mimi's pink lips. "Too busy for your very best friend who goes out of her way to buy you new clothes out of the goodness of her heart?"

"I never asked you to do that," Sora reminded her.

"See?" the other girl straightened her posture and gave her turban an affectionate pat, somehow managing to look glamorous even in her current getup. "Aren't I such an angel?"

A reluctant puff of air blew past Sora's lips as she muttered, "You're _something_ , that's for sure."

Mimi wasn't so easily dismissed — she never was. And if Sora hadn't been in such a foul mood, she would've accepted the fact that it was easier to play along with her roommate's silly demands instead of provoking her more tenacious side. Especially since, at that very moment, her tenacious side took hold of Sora's arm and began tugging her off the bed, towing her toward the bathroom despite the redhead's protests.

"This will all go much more smoothly if you'd just stop resisting," Mimi hung the dress on the shower rod and simultaneously tossed her friend inside the room. "Now go — before I force it on you myself."

And that was her first and only warning before shutting the bathroom door with a resounding slam. Sora heaved an exasperated sigh when she found herself standing alone in the bathroom, eyeing the dress that was waiting enticingly on the hanger.

"I know exactly what you're doing here," she called out in defeat as she began undressing. "Pressuring me into trying on a dress isn't going to make me change my mind, you know."

On the other side of the door, Mimi bit back a devious grin that would've certainly given away her intentions had Sora been present to see it. "But you _have_ to be there," she whined. "Do you even realize how many powerful music industry big-shots are going to be at this album launch party? I am one charming smile and flirty conversation away from _stardom_."

Sora had to chuckle as she hoisted her sweater over her head. "I'm excited for you, Meems, but what does any of that have to do with me?"

"Just imagine us waltzing through the front doors together," she began circling the bedroom with long, graceful strides, already lost in the fantasy that was beginning to take shape inside her mind. "Everyone will be talking about the stunning mystery woman who arrived with lead singer Matt Ishida's girlfriend —"

"Yeah, that might work if anyone at that party actually cared whether or not I show up," she hissed. Hearing his name alone was enough to make Sora yank the dress off the hanger in one angry swipe. "That includes lead singer Matt Ishida himself."

Mimi paused her dramatic trek around the room to roll her eyes. "This is his big celebration, Sora. Of _course_ he cares if you're there."

"Well, then maybe he should _tell_ me that instead of just treating me like —" she stopped herself before the words spilled out in another heated rampage. She was tired of talking about it. She was tired of everything. " —Can't you just go with Tai or something? It's on Christmas Eve — I thought you two would already have plans, anyway."

The brunette plopped herself down on the edge of Sora's bed and crossed her legs daintily, examining her manicured nails with intense scrutiny as she huffed, "I have not been _officially_ invited anywhere by _anyone_ on Christmas Eve. Therefore, I have no obligations to _officially_ attend any party with a particular individual _whatsoever_."

Sora nodded knowingly. "Fair enough."

"Boys are just the _worst_ ," Mimi continued. "I would much rather grow old with you."

"Only if we get a few cats, too."

" _Obviously_."

Sora grinned and didn't even notice that she was donning the new dress until she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her smile dropped slowly. "Um… Mimi?"

"Do you need a hand with the zipper?" the girl asked as she hopped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"No, actually, I…"

Mimi barged through the door just as Sora whirled around to face her. The redhead's arms were folded awkwardly over her midsection to hide the silky black fabric that clung to her skin in all the right places. Mimi's jaw dropped open, but Sora looked like she was debating whether or not to make a mad dash behind the shower curtain.

"I don't…" she fidgeted uncomfortably under Mimi's invasive gaze. "…think it's very _me_."

"It's _perfect_ ," the girl moved forward and tried to tug at Sora's stubborn arms for a better look at her black-clad figure. "You look _hot_ —"

Sora blushed while she attempted to stave off Mimi's picking and prodding. "Mimi, oh my _god_."

" —And I'm sure I'm not the only one who would think that," she hinted with wagging eyebrows. "Everyone is going to care that you're there when you show up in this — especially _you know who_."

Sora turned to study her reflection in the mirror. No, she didn't look quite like herself, but she _did_ look like someone who might attend an album launch party. More importantly, she looked like someone that would make Matt Ishida regret he ever took her for granted. Mimi was grinning at her side, looking comically underdressed in comparison, but she could tell that the brunette was already imagining their grand entrance. All eyes would be on them. People would whisper and silently envy them.

And maybe, for the first time in months, Sora would finally feel like she belonged in Matt's company.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 8:11pm**

Kari hardly recognized the handsome young man sauntering toward her. He was dressed in a sharp, fitted suit and walked with a certain kind of confidence that demanded her undivided attention. If not for the telltale spiked hair blatantly contradicting his entire facade, she might not've even realized that the dashing young man was, in fact, her date for the evening.

"Davis?" Kari stepped forward, mildly expecting him not to respond. But then he turned and grinned — and that's when the recognition set in. That bright, cheeky smile could belong to no one else but Davis.

"Hey!" he waved enthusiastically. "Sorry I'm late. Got a little caught up down the street… Who knew you had to order ahead for a bunch of stinkin' flowers, ya know?"

It was then that Kari noticed the small bouquet of peonies in Davis' hand. They were colorful, a little wilted and windblown, but charming all the same.

She blinked in surprise. "Are those for me?"

Davis blinked in surprise, too. And then he looked down at his handful of flowers, slightly startled, as if he'd forgotten about them until that very moment. A bright blush painted his face, but he tried to play it off coolly — to no avail. "Uh, yeah, they are. You like 'em? I mean, I know it's kinda cheesy or whatever, but I figure it's not every day you get asked out by the girl of your dreams so I just kinda rolled with it —"

"They were Yolei's idea, weren't they?"

"Yep. A hundred percent."

A laugh rippled past Kari's upturned lips. So maybe he wasn't particularly suave, but she still found it endearing — in a very _Davis_ kind of way.

"Well, thank you. It's still a sweet…" she watched a few limp petals snap off and float miserably to the ground. "…gesture."

"Lousy clump of weeds," Davis grumbled as Kari snorted in amusement behind her hand. He chucked the wilting flowers to the side in a fit of childish defiance. "Flowers are lame, anyway. Let's just get this party started. I think I can already smell the dessert table from out here!"

Davis led the way inside the venue with a bounce in his step, and Kari discreetly wondered what she'd gotten herself into.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 9:05pm**

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

Sora's heart pounded an incessant and erratic rhythm against her chest as the taxi cab crawled through the downtown traffic, carrying them closer and closer to their destination. The sun had gone down hours ago, but the city was all aglow from the blinking banners and glittering signs that lined the bustling street.

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

The cab dropped them off outside The Lux, a notorious nightclub that was just as ritzy and extravagant as the name implied. Mimi gave the driver a generous tip along with a playful wink before sliding out of the backseat. As soon as Sora was greeted by a gust of chilly winter air, she felt her friend's warm hand slip into her own. She was silently grateful.

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

Mimi removed a small compact mirror from her purse for a final primp while Sora waited anxiously at her side, studying the throngs of people that were pouring in and out of the front doors. There were men with shady eyes and chiseled features entering with young women on their arms — giggling goddesses wearing fishnets, black stilettos, and too much eyeliner. Sora didn't recognize a single one.

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

They joined the crowd of strangers and entered the club. Sora's heartbeat was loud, but the music was louder — Matt's music, apparently, but it sounded so artificial and over-produced that it was hard to be certain. The dance floor was bouncing with a sea of well-dressed guests, and the perimeter was lined with circular tables, each one adorned by gold cloth and an elaborate centerpiece. Model-esque cocktail waitresses in leather mini skirts and frilly headbands pranced around the room offering sweet-tasting drinks to eager patrons, grinning seductively beneath the dim lights. Sora didn't even want to think about how much a party like this might've cost, and yet, she found herself wondering. The venue, the alcohol, the decorations — each individual centerpiece alone must've been worth a small fortune. Matt never cared about _centerpieces_. Or crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling or scantily-clad waitresses or —

Her dismal thoughts about superfluous decor were interrupted when she felt Mimi give her hand a tight squeeze. The redhead wasn't surprised to see that the glittering display had already worked its magic on her wide-eyed roommate.

"Well?" Mimi prompted, barely audible over the roar of the party.

"It's… impressive," Sora replied.

"You don't look impressed," the girl said astutely. "Actually, you look rather nauseous."

"I'm fine."

It was a lie and they both knew it. "You'd be even better if you had a _teeny_ bit of liquid courage," Mimi's eyes flitted toward the bar. "If I'm going to spend the evening chatting up random strangers in the hopes that they'll be able to whisk me away to fame with nothing but a single cosmo in my system, then it'll _certainly_ loosen you up, too."

"Mimi —" Sora tried to reach for the girl's hand again, but she was already scooting further away.

"It's a party, chickadee," she reminded her with a bright, reassuring grin. " _Mingle_."

Sora watched as Mimi disappeared in the crowd surrounding the bar. Her friend seemed to blend seamlessly with everyone else, but she still felt like an outsider. Not even makeup and a fancy dress could change that fact. The patrons at the bar were sipping from oddly shaped glasses and chatting about things that probably didn't matter. They were all lavish and gaudy and, as her eyes scanned the group, they all started looking exactly alike… until she was struck by harsh familiarity.

Matt was seated beside his brother at the other end of the bar. His hand gripped a nearly empty glass and he was smiling. Laughing. He looked like one of _them_.

"Ah, look who it is."

Familiarity struck again, but, that time, it was far more haunting. Sora turned over her shoulder to find herself staring up into Fox's smirking face. The tall man loomed over her, looking surprisingly low-key in a simple black suit, but the gold fedora atop his head succeeded in accentuating his usual flair.

"Mr. Fox," Sora greeted tepidly. "Hi."

"Funny bumping into you here," he chuckled after taking a quick sip of the amber-colored liquid inside his glass. "The gang hasn't seen you around in a while. We were starting to think that you're allergic to fun."

She didn't owe him any kind of explanation so she uttered through tight lips, "Well, I'm happy to be here to support the band."

"What a doll you are, little lady," said Fox. "All that support is gonna come in handy soon. Your boy is really gonna need it when he hits the road."

Sora had to remind herself how to exhale. "When he what?"

"He hasn't told you yet? That's funny," and he was grinning as if it really _were_ funny, but Sora failed to find the humor in anything he was saying. "Guess you're in for a big surprise like everyone else. Always a pleasure, Sarah."

"It's _Sora_ —"

But he didn't seem to hear. Fox was already wading through the crowd, making his way to the DJ booth at the front of the room. He stepped up onto the platform and whispered something to the DJ that made him cut the music. Everything went silent except for the murmur of the confused audience and the shrill shriek of a microphone as Fox brought it up to his lips.

"Alright — settle down — we'll get back to the celebration before you know it," the manager calmed the crowd with his ease and charisma. "But first I need to say a few words, yeah?"

He had the room's attention, which was exactly the way he liked it.

"Now I've helped a lot of acts make it to the big leagues before, but it takes more than just a pretty face to get there. It takes brains. It takes guts. It takes _talent_. And that's _exactly_ what I saw from these boys the first time I went to their show. Not to mention their faces are still pretty, too, ladies," and the crowd laughed. A few girls whistled and cheered. "It makes me damn proud to say that Knife of Day is the _real deal_. And this studio album is only the beginning!"

Fox raised his glass as everyone burst into applause. Sora joined in halfheartedly, expecting the party to resume, but the man remained on the platform with the microphone still poised by his smirking mouth.

"If this is just the beginning, then you're all probably wondering what could be in store for these kids," Fox continued. The audience hushed once again. "And the answer is this — I'm happy to publicly announce that Knife of Day is going on a 2016 _national_ _tour_. Let's hear it for our boys!"

The announcement was met with an explosive uproar. The crowd cheered and hollered and clapped their hands to celebrate the exciting news — but Sora couldn't hear any of it. Her muscles were tensed, frozen where she stood on the outskirts of the thunderous mob. The only sound that seemed to reach her ears was the returning thud of her heartbeat.

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

Her burgundy eyes were like a magnet pulled toward Matt's seat at the bar, and she was utterly surprised to see that he had already found her. He, too, was silent and unmoving, but his blue gaze was fixed directly on hers.

_Buh-bum-buh-bum-buh-bum-buh-bum…_

She jerked herself around and began pushing her way through the mass of strangers. The sound of his voice calling out her name penetrated the commotion, but maybe she was only imagining things. Still, Sora's unsteady legs carried her across the room, traveling faster and faster until she realized that she didn't even know where she was going.

_Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum._

The noise of the crowd finally died down when she charged through the back door to safety.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 8:28pm**

"Man, I'm feeling all sorts of _snazzy_ in this thing," Davis preened, tugging proudly on the lapels of his suit jacket. He chuckled and leaned so far back on the hind legs of his chair that it was a miracle he didn't fall flat on his back. "If this bow tie wasn't such a bitch to get on, I'd wear a suit every day!"

He looked to his side where Kari was gazing off into the distance — just as she'd been doing since the pair first entered the venue. "Mhm," she hummed distractedly.

Davis pursed his lips, ever persistent, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the bar. "Hey, want me to go score us some drinks?"

Kari shook her head politely, but her curious eyes were still scouring the room for a familiar pair of blonds. "No, thank you. I'm not very thirsty right now."

"How 'bout a dance then? I bet this suit'll give me some serious moves out there —"

"Oh, I don't really dance."

Davis straightened up on all four chair legs with a thump. He watched Kari not watching him, nibbling anxiously on her bottom lip, restless hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Her mind could've been anywhere at that moment, but it certainly wasn't there with him.

It was with a long, hollow breath that Davis sighed, "Everyone thinks I'm dumb, y'know."

He sounded so feeble, so unexpectedly vulnerable that it finally caught Kari's attention. She whipped around on the spot and muttered, "What?"

"It's true," he insisted with a heavy shrug. "And — yeah, okay — maybe I've taken a couple soccer balls to the head, but I'm not _stupid_. 'Least not about some things."

"I don't think you're stupid at all, Davis," Kari told him quietly.

He cracked a small smile and Kari couldn't help but notice how different he looked when he wasn't beaming like an arrogant child. "Yeah. You never did. That's 'cause you're not like everyone else. But still… I know about some things," Davis eyed her carefully. "Like, I know I'm probably not your first choice. Probably not even your second or third either. But you know what? I don't care. 'Cause I think we can still have a pretty fun time tonight, if you just let me try."

Kari's gaze was no longer wandering. It was firmly fixed on the boy in front of her as he rose from his chair and held out his hand like a bonafide leading man. "So I'm gonna ask you again — and I'm gonna _keep_ asking 'til you say yes — wanna dance?"

She took his hand and let him pull her out of her seat as she told him, "Actually, I'd love to."

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 8:36pm**

The party was in full swing, but TK sat alone at the bar.

He tried to smile when he caught a glimpse of Kari laughing on the dance floor in Davis' arms, but he couldn't bring himself to mean it. He was glad that she was enjoying herself, finally abandoning her inhibitions, but he couldn't let go of the possibility that — had circumstances been slightly different — it could have been him making her laugh on the dance floor instead of brooding at the bar. TK didn't _brood_. Brooding was his brother's job.

"You seem pretty miserable tonight."

As if on cue, Matt walked up and occupied the empty stool beside him. TK wrinkled his nose. Miserable suggested feeling. All he felt was a horrible numbness. Or a numbing horribleness.

"I could say the same to you," he commented.

Wisely, Matt decided not to refute the claim because he knew it would only result in an argument that he had no hope of winning. Instead, he sipped quietly at his drink and, with a subtle free hand, slid a second one across the countertop toward his brother. TK's equally as subtle hand wrapped around the glass and brought it to his lips. He didn't know what it was. He didn't care. But it burned a little as he swallowed down a mouthful.

"Shouldn't you be with your date?" asked Matt.

"Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?"

It was short, pithy, downright rude and had Matt turning on his brother with raised eyebrows. TK immediately recoiled from his own words, puckering his lips with distaste.

"Too harsh?" he said sheepishly.

"A little," was Matt's depleted response.

A sigh. A heavy, weighted sigh left his mouth in a way that nearly exposed the distress that was bubbling beneath his perpetually unflappable surface. "Sorry. I'm not trying to rain on your parade on purpose," TK stared into his drink. "It's just been a long week."

Matt lifted his glass in a sardonic salute. "I'll drink to that."

TK offered him a sad, lopsided excuse for a smile, clicked their glasses together, and then promptly finished off whatever was left inside.

"You think it'll ever get easier?" the younger brother wondered vaguely.

"What?"

"Growing up."

Matt's eyes followed the forlorn gaze that TK cast out onto the dance floor. "What does growing up have to do with Kari?"

TK refocused his attention back to the other blond, looking slightly ruffled. "Who said I was talking about Kari?"

"C'mon, Teeks, you've been staring since she got here," he pointed out dryly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were crossing the line between admirer and serial killer."

"The only thing separating an admirer from a serial killer is a _line_?"

Matt rolled his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for the boy's witty literalism. "Hilarious," he deadpanned.

TK chuckled to himself as he found the dancing couple in the crowd once again. Davis was staring down at the floor, brow furrowed in deep concentration to — most likely — ensure he didn't step on Kari's feet. They spoke in voices that were too distant for TK to hear, but something made Kari throw her head back with laughter.

"She looks like she's having a good time," TK said. "Doesn't she?"

"I guess so," Matt answered. "You could always go ask her for yourself, you know."

The younger boy shook his head resolutely. "Nah. I shouldn't interrupt."

"Interrupt?" his brother snorted. "She'd probably be _relieved_ to have an excuse to get away from that kid who looks like a drunk zombie when he dances."

"But she's happy," TK's glance was still chasing Kari around the floor. He was too entranced by her bright, lively eyes and the way her nose crinkled adorably in the center of her face — just like it always used to whenever he told a corny joke or cracked a lame pun. Then he continued, "Sometimes we have to step away from the people we care about to let them be happy. Even if it sucks." The corner of TK's mouth twitched upward into a somber, nearly imperceptible smirk before he added, "And _that_ , dear brother, is why growing up is so terrible."

Matt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, stunned and mildly impressed. "I never thought I'd see the day when _you_ started sounding just as old and cynical as the rest of the world."

"You call it cynical, I call it mature."

"Is there really much of a difference?"

"I'll drink to that," TK waved at the bartender, signaling for another commiserating round.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 9:22pm**

Tai's footsteps were slow and deliberate as he paced the alleyway outside.

"Mimi, I want you to have this."

He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again.

"Mimi… I got you a present. Because I was thinking about you. As a friend. Because friends think about each other. And that's what we are. Friends. Just… friends… _Goddammit_."

His shoe scraped the ground in frustration as his eyes zeroed in on the small gift box in his hand. He threw his head back and downed the remainder of his drink. Apparently this was going to be harder than he thought.

Tai Kamiya wasn't scared of the nighttime monsters under his little sister's bed. Tai Kamiya wasn't scared of choosing a dare during even the most intense games of Truth or Dare. Tai Kamiya wasn't scared of tackling a player twice his size on the soccer field to score a goal. However, Tai Kamiya _was_ scared, apparently, of gazing into those milk chocolate eyes and telling that bossy, gorgeous, walking headache of a girl that she hadn't left his mind since the day she blackmailed him into dancing on stage with her like an idiot. And, somehow, he managed to find himself in a very peculiar situation — with a three hundred dollar bauble in his hand and a mouthful of words that refused to come out right no matter how many times he pieced them together.

"Grow a pair, Kamiya," he chided himself. "She's just a girl."

But the kindling of his nerves proved otherwise. With a gruff sigh, Tai shoved the box back into his pocket. It was simple, really. It was just a crummy necklace. He could do this. He could do this. He could —

Somewhere in the vacant alleyway, somebody sniffled loudly. It wouldn't have normally been so distracting, but it was followed by a pitiful and wavering breath, as if the person in question's body was turning hollow. Or worse — already had.

He tiptoed closer until he noticed a small, miserable figure hidden in the shadows, sitting with her back against the brick wall of the alleyway. "Sora?"

She looked up, startled, and immediately began swiping under her eyes, but Tai wasn't so easily fooled. Not about her. "Go away, Tai," Sora ordered in a voice that lacked her usual stern authority. In that moment, she just didn't have the strength to scold. "I just want to be alone right now."

"You know," the boy began, ignoring his friend's request and slowly taking a seat on the ground beside her. "When people say they wanna be alone, that's usually when they actually need someone the most," and he smiled at her, tentatively, not knowing if it would even be reciprocated. "I could be that someone."

She lifted an eyebrow as she wondered, "Since when did you get to be so cheesy?"

"Since about a minute ago when I saw you out here looking like a big mess," said Tai with a gentle nudge to her arm.

The nighttime ambiance filled their silence with distant car horns and melting snow dripping onto the pavement — anything but the sound of their voices. Neither one of them could find words. Tai wasn't very good at mending broken hearts and Sora wasn't very good at being a victim. They were both painfully out of their element. Still, despite her previous demands, Sora was glad that she didn't have to be alone.

"I hate this," she finally admitted, broken and quiet, as she wiped the red lipstick off her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I know," he replied.

Sora allowed herself another wet sniffle, shaking her head with chagrin. "I'm not this kind of girl, Tai."

"I know you aren't."

"Then why do I feel like I am?"

"Because sometimes you just can't pretend that everything's fine when it's not."

"Yeah."

Tai stared ahead at the brick wall across from them, his gaze tracing all the cracks and crevices that ran through it like veins through a body.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"There's nothing to talk about," she said sourly. "He's leaving. That's that. And he wasn't even going to tell me."

Tai remained as diplomatic as possible when he replied, "He was probably gonna tell you eventually."

"When?" Sora flung back. "With his bags packed and one foot already out the door?"

"C'mon, have a little faith," a reassuring hand rested on her bare shoulder. "Maybe he was just —"

"Stop trying to defend him," the redhead barked abruptly, shaking off his touch. Tai let his hand fall limply into his lap, afraid that doing anything else would result in losing that hand completely. Then for the first time all evening, he finally got a good look at her eyes, which were damp around the edges and clouded with heartache. He wished he could erase that tormented image from his mind entirely, but she was staring him down and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"I know you're his best friend, but you must've noticed how much he's changed. All I want is to be there for him and he just keeps pushing everyone further away. I'm trying my best to fit into his new life with his new rockstar friends, new manager, new music… And the same old me," Sora's face, which had been twisted and contorted into distress, suddenly began to soften. The air fled her lungs in one long exhale as the alarming revelation plagued her mind. "Maybe that's it. Maybe _I'm_ the problem. Maybe _I_ just don't fit anymore."

Tai was shaking his head before she could get all the words out. "Sora, that's crazy."

"Is it?" she challenged, and the desperation in her tone made Tai wonder if she was legitimately expecting an answer.

"Look, I don't know what's going on in Matt's fucked up head right now, but you're _not_ the thing that doesn't fit. Alright? You _can't_ be," he began with stubborn conviction creeping into his voice. "'Cause you're the kind of girl that makes a guy wanna turn his whole life upside down just to make sure you have a place in it."

When Sora appeared unconvinced by Tai's well-intentioned words, he quickly smirked and added, "So what I'm saying is that you're basically a life ruiner, Takenouchi."

Finally, at long last, she smiled. In fact, she even dared to laugh a little.

"Thanks, Tai," Sora said softly. "I needed that."

His hand found her shoulder again, only this time she didn't brush him off. His touch was warm and comforting. She looked up, burgundy meeting chestnut as their gazes locked, but something felt inexplicably different. That's when Tai's hand moved up to the side of her face and he started leaning in toward her lips at a snail's pace — though Sora could've sworn it was happening much faster than that.

She was all flushed cheeks and wide eyes when she gently pulled away. "Tai… don't."

It felt like someone flipped a switch in his head, shining a light on the darkness that was his impulsivity and bad decision making. Sora was staring cautiously into his face, which was caught somewhere between shock and shame.

"Shit," he breathed. "I know… Sorry. I wasn't —"

He was interrupted by the metal squeak of the side door flying open, followed by some very familiar voices.

"Well? Is she out here?"

"Sora —?"

Almost immediately, there was a high-pitched gasp. Matt and Mimi were suddenly standing in the alleyway with matching expressions of staggering horror. Tai and Sora went pale as their minds grappled to keep up with reality, and then he yanked his hand away from the redhead's cheek in a panic. They scrambled to their feet, but it was too late. Matt was already making his way toward the guilty pair.

Tai stepped forward, too, meeting him halfway. "Dude, it wasn't what it looked like —"

And then Matt threw the first punch.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 9:45pm**

Admittedly, he didn't remember many of the details — everything had unraveled too quickly to process, and the couple shots of whiskey he'd taken earlier that evening weren't exactly helpful either. He remembered the ice cold wrath in Matt's eyes as he lunged forward. He remembered the sudden stinging pain as his best friend's fist collided with his face. He remembered Sora's cries, ordering them to stop. And then he remembered Mimi's forceful grip as she dragged him out of the wreckage. Her intricate up-do had come loose, tendrils of soft brown hair falling around her face, and she looked at Tai as if he were damaged, a monster, a disappointment.

That he remembered quite vividly.

And so Tai found himself in the back room of the kitchen where they'd made their escape. He sat on an overturned recycling bin, balancing a bag of frozen lima beans against his left eye, looking just as pathetic as he felt.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is becoming a habit of ours?" Tai's words were intended to lighten the mood, diffuse some of the tension that hung heavy in the air surrounding them, but Mimi was having absolutely none of his antics. She remained stony-faced as she dabbed at his bloody nose with a damp washcloth.

"Probably because the universe is trying to tell you that you _deserve_ to get hit in the face," she remarked flatly.

"Hey, I —" the boy started his retort with an amused huff, but quickly winced away when Mimi pressed the washcloth maybe-not-so-accidentally harder against his tender wound. "— _agh_. That stings."

"It's supposed to," Mimi insisted impatiently as she gripped his shoulder with her opposite hand to keep him from squirming. "Now hold still."

For once, Tai did as he was told. He might've been temporarily blind in one eye, but he could still see, quite clearly, that Mimi's sharp, unblinking gaze, sternly set jaw, and irritably furrowed brow was not to be tested. He allowed her to finish her task in silence, expertly biting back his pain thanks to years of practice from various soccer injuries.

When Mimi was done, she retracted the washcloth and surveyed his bruised face with a hardened stare.

"How do I look?"

"Like a raging idiot who just tried to kiss his best friend's girlfriend."

"So in other words, like a total badass?" Tai smirked, still banking on cracking that agitated exterior. Mimi's outraged expression, however, had him quickly backtracking. "Kidding, I was kidding — jeez, it was just a joke."

"Well," Mimi spat as she rose from her seat, stomping her way toward the sink to dispose of the used washcloth. "I'm _so_ glad to hear that Matt didn't manage to smack the sense of humor out of you."

Tai chuckled, seemingly unaware of the blatant saltiness behind her comment, and called out to her, "He took my dignity and my dashing good looks with that punch, so he had to leave something —"

"What in the world is _wrong_ with you, Taichi?"

Her biting words were punctuated with the resounding smack of the wet washcloth hitting against the metal sink when she tossed it to the wayside. Tai turned over his shoulder to find her facing him, hands on her hips and a fury in her gaze that he never thought those doe eyes would ever be capable of.

He blinked his good eye and said, "That better be a rhetorical question."

"No, it most certainly is not," Mimi began inching closer, one threatening footstep at a time across the tiled floor. Tai knew better than to let her gain more ground — he leapt to his feet and started backing away like a cornered prey. "Please explain to me how it's possible for one single human being to be so selfish, impulsive, and just plain _stupid_ —"

"You don't have to lecture me like I'm so proud of what I did," he countered. "I screwed up, okay? I know that, Sora knows that, and Matt would know that, too, if he'd just let me explain instead of throwing around punches."

Mimi took another ominous stride toward him. "He had every right to be angry with you."

"You're taking his side?" Tai demanded, incredulous.

"There are no sides when you were so clearly out of line!"

The bag of frozen beans dropped from Tai's hand when he felt his back bump into something large and cold — the refrigerator, most likely. Mimi was still moving in on him at an alarming pace and now he truly _was_ a cornered prey. Tai lifted his hands in surrender, hoping to ward off the girl's fiery temper.

"Alright, already! I get your point," he said. But then his gaze focused in on her, even through the blurriness of his wounded eye. "But what I _don't_ get is why _you're_ the crazy one acting like I just tried to kiss _your_ girlfriend."

"Crazy?" Mimi laughed shrilly, high-pitched and devoid of sanity. " _You're_ the crazy one if you don't even realize how all of this makes _me_ feel!"

She pounced at him, but Tai ducked and stumbled in the other direction for safety, narrowly avoiding yet another assault. "Oh, and _I'm_ still the selfish one?" he challenged, voice rising in frustration. "You're the only person I know who can make yourself a victim in a situation that has _nothing_ to do with you. Obviously all hell will break loose if you're not the center of attention one _fucking_ time…"

Mimi gasped, utterly offended, and whirled around so aggressively that her fallen strands of hair whipped her in the face. "You think I'm doing this for _attention_?"

The girl stormed forward once again, but, this time, Tai didn't move away. He stood his ground, muscles tense with anger, and waited until they were face to face before he snapped, "No, I _know_ you're doing this for attention — because I know you pretty damn well by now, Mimi. Mommy and daddy won't give you the time of day so you might as well steal the spotlight from your best friend when she's —"

 _Smack_.

The slap was swift, effective, and uncoincidentally aimed right at Tai's tender bruise. The boy doubled over in agony, a hand grappling for stability against the metal countertop, but it proved to be too difficult a task when he was otherwise preoccupied by the searing pain throbbing against his left eye.

"Sweet mother of _fuck_ —" he rasped helplessly.

"If you're so convinced that someone is trying to steal the spotlight, then allow me," Mimi began coldly. So coldly, in fact, that Tai had to flinch. " _I_ think what you did was cruel. _I_ think you aren't nearly as brave as you pretend to be. _I_ feel cheap. _I_ feel used. _I_ feel like just another bimbo that you could amuse yourself with while you waited around for the one you _really_ want. So, yes, maybe I do want attention — but only because it's yours and you're too _dense_ to realize it!"

She ended her tirade with heavy, uneven breaths and wide eyes, as if she were truly surprised that she'd spoken those words aloud. She didn't like the thick silence that followed or the way Tai was gawking at her like a strange specimen beneath a microscope, so Mimi tucked some stray hairs behind her ear and allowed her gaze to wander idly around the room.

"Mimi," he said at last. "Are you… jealous?"

She quickly scoffed — too quickly. "That is _not_ what I'm saying."

"But you're saying that you don't want me trying to kiss anyone else."

"I'm _saying_ ," her words were slow and measured to make sure they were heard loud and clear, "that you should be more considerate of other people's feelings."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Because the question is _stupid_."

Mimi finally looked up again. Tai was watching her, his face a battleground of emotion, but she couldn't read any of it. His brow was furrowed in confusion, his nostrils slightly flared in contempt, and the corner of his mouth was curved upward with a hint of amusement. Mimi could almost see the gears turning inside his thick skull, contemplating, figuring it out, and then — he paused. The boy's expression drained and was replaced by a sudden spark of remembrance.

"Wait, I — _shit_ — I almost forgot," he dug a hand deep into his pocket. "This is probably the worst timing ever, but — I've been trying to give you this all night."

A small velvet box sat in the palm of Tai's outstretched hand, simple and pretty, but Mimi stared at it as if it were dangerous. He waited, uncharacteristically patient, as her eyes turned glossy and harsh.

"I don't want your pity gift, Tai," she told him quietly. "You don't owe me anything."

"I'm not paying you back for anything, I just… ah, I can't explain it," Tai's face contorted with the struggle to find the right words. "I just really want you to have this."

Carefully, he began to open the box, but Mimi's hand reached out like a bullet and stopped the lid from lifting before a single sparkle could escape.

"Well, I don't want it," she said sharply. "You can keep it."

The brunette shouldered past him, making a beeline for the door without a single falter in her stride. Tai curled his fingers tightly around the tiny box and watched her go.

* * *

**December 24th, 2015 - 9:45pm**

"Nothing happened, Matt, I already told you."

Not even the crisp, bitter breeze that smacked against her heated skin could cool her down. Sora was utterly seething as she spun around on the shadowed concrete to throw a jagged glower in Matt's direction. There was at least six feet of empty space between their stiff stances because anything closer was simply not an option — not with the raging fire burning through Sora's veins.

"Right, nothing happened, but tell me," the stoic blond could feel himself unhinging, teetering on the brink of instability as he growled, "Would something have happened if I hadn't been there?"

To Sora's ears, the blunt question sounded more like an accusation and caused the girl to scoff in offense. "Of course not!" she cried. "I would've never let that happen. The fact that you even have to _ask_ me that just proves how much you've really changed!"

"I'm not the only one who's changed here, Sora," Matt countered gravely.

"Oh, so now it's suddenly _my_ fault?"

"Sora, just —"

"Do you even know why Tai was out here with me in the first place?" the girl didn't bother waiting for a response. She spoke her words with such reckless abandon that her throat felt raw and abused, but she couldn't bring herself to slow down. "It's because I was upset about that _special announcement_ — the one that _I_ should've known about before anyone else, but no — I had to hear it from _Fox_ , who, by the way, _still doesn't know my name_."

Matt was still. Too still. Dangerously still — like the calm before a storm.

"When were you going to tell me about the tour, Matt?" she demanded. "Were you even going to tell me at all? Or were you just planning on leaving without — "

"When were _you_ going to tell me about FIT?"

The distant wails of traffic, the muffled pulse of music still blaring from inside, even the drumming of her relentless heartbeat — it all came to a screeching halt. Matt's words hung heavy in the air like a black cloud, drifting through their six feet of separation until it settled over both of their heads. The storm had arrived. Sora's mouth twitched as if she were about to speak, but not a sound was uttered.

"I know," he took a step forward. Her legs itched to take a step back.

"Who…?"

"No one told me," Matt explained, reading her mind fluently. "I saw the acceptance letter in your room."

Sora just waited in silence, idly wondering if he was expecting some kind of apology. But he wasn't getting one.

"I don't get it," he sighed. "That's amazing news. Why didn't you say anything?"

There was no anger hidden in his tone, she noted, but, in its place, there were the subtle vestiges of hurt. And it was the kind of hurt that Sora knew all too well — the kind that could only be derived from being the last to know about the person that she always put first.

"Because I wasn't —"

"Wasn't sure how I'd react when you told me?" his blue eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Sora's gaze quickly filled with guilt, though she turned her face away in an attempt to hide it. "Matt, I… I wasn't going to tell you because I wasn't going to go."

He studied her for a moment. "You were going to turn down grad school," Matt spoke as slowly and as evenly as possible, as if he were making sure that he'd heard her correctly.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Because for a little while I was stupid enough to think that maybe you needed me here, but now…" She broke off, because she feared the words that were beginning to blossom from her own tongue, despite knowing that they needed to be said. They should've been said a long time ago. She drew in a feeble breath and forced the rest out in a low, choked voice. "Maybe this is happening at a good time, you know? You going away on tour and me getting ready to move to New York —"

"What are you saying?" Matt snapped.

"I think we need to end this before it gets even worse," she spoke as if she were in a hurry — as if speaking quickly would lessen the pain, but it didn't. "We aren't working, Matt, and you know it. Even when I try, I just don't fit into your world anymore."

_You are my world._

But he didn't dare speak the thought aloud. It wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't keep Sora's flushed cheeks from being stained with tears. It wouldn't stop her from leaving. It wouldn't fix what they'd broken.

His ears ringing, Matt exhaled as if he'd been struck in the gut, then looked away. He glanced at the brick wall. He glanced upward at the black sky. He glanced down at his feet. Anywhere but Sora's intense eyes. A hand lifted and dragged through his golden hair, a gesture of both disbelief and bitter resignation.

"Is that what you really want?" Matt asked. He barely had enough air in his lungs to get the words out.

"No," she answered honestly. "But we need to."

The few feet between them suddenly felt more like miles. And the seconds that passed began to feel like minutes. Maybe it _had_ been minutes. Matt didn't know for sure. But he knew that he was wallowing in the silence for far too long when Sora prompted him with a slightly more brusque, "Don't you have anything to say?"

"… No."

His short, detached, and definitive response seemed to echo off the walls, but Sora still couldn't believe her ears. A single syllable was all he had to say about everything they once had together. Matt still refused to look her in the face as he turned over his shoulder and began walking away. He passed the door leading back into the club, heading for the street instead.

"That's it? Nothing?" Sora trailed after his retreating back, her voice rising in a frenzy. "You don't even have the nerve to fight for me? For _us_? You're just going to walk away —"

Matt whipped around with darkened eyes and Sora all but skidded to a halt in front of him. "You said it's _over_ , Sora, what else do you want me to do?"

"I just want you to say something! Anything!"

And so he did.

"Be safe in New York."

Except it sounded like goodbye.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** You can tell that we're getting closer to the end of the story because everything is going to shit. So now things can only go up from here! Right? ...Right? You'll have to read for yourselves soon. ;) Thanks for the support, everyone, and, as always, for your amazing patience.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Welcome back! And when I say 'welcome back', I'm talking to my brain, who graciously decided to join the party long enough to finish this chapter. :D But enough about that. You all have waited long enough. Please enjoy the next chapter!

 **About Us**  
Chapter 11

* * *

  **December 26th, 2015**

 **TO:** [Sora Takenouchi, Yolei Inoue, Kari Kamiya, TK Takaishi, Davis Motomiya, Joe Kido, Koushiro Izumi, +33 others]  
**FROM:** [Mimi Tachikawa]  
**SUBJECT:** Reminder:Mimi's 4th Annual New Years Soirée Spectacular!

My Dearest Friends,

Everyone's favorite time of the year is finally upon us. Which means that _Mimi's 4th Annual New Years Soirée Spectacular_ is right around the corner! The dress code of "creative cocktail chic" is still firmly intact. So, men, suit up! Ladies, look fabulous. Champagne and various finger foods will be served — including my _famous_ strawberry ganache tarts, back by popular demand! Yum!

Kindly note that if you have received this follow-up invitation, then you should consider yourself extremely fortunate. In case you didn't notice, certain individuals have been _removed_ from the email group, and rightfully so. New Years is a time to embrace change, reinvention, and fresh starts. And, this year, _our_ fresh starts will _not_ be tainted by immature, thick-headed _idiots_ who get some kind of sick enjoyment out of treating women like disposable _objects_ with their vile womanizing ways.

Anyway, I hope to see everyone there! Hugs & Kisses!

xoxoxoxo,  
Mimi

* * *

**December 26th, 2015**

_Ring… ring… ring…_

Silence.

_Ring… ring… ring…_

More silence. Then, finally:

"Hello?"

"What — oh — h-hello?"

"Um, Tai?"

"Yeah, hi, it's me. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting you to answer. I've been trying to get a hold of you since —"

"I know. I just wasn't in the mood to talk."

"Makes sense. But, uh… you wanna talk now?"

"I answered your call, didn't I?"

"Right. Okay. Then, Sora, I just wanna say that I'm sorry for —"

"You don't have to apologize, Tai. I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?"

"No. You thought that I was?"

"Well, everyone else is so I figured you jumped on that bandwagon, too."

"I know that you didn't mean what you did. Or almost did. You just wanted to make me feel better… But you did it in your usual stupid, impulsive way."

"…Sora?"

"What?"

"Are you okay? 'Cause you sound terrible."

"Still stupid, still impulsive."

"But I'm being serious."

"I don't _feel_ okay, Tai. I broke up with him. Do you think I did the right thing?"

"Yeah, I do. He's not in a good place right now. He was hurting you, Sora, and you don't deserve that."

"…Are _you_ okay?"

"Am _I_ okay?"

"I know I'm not the only one who lost someone I care about."

"…She won't talk to me. And I don't blame her. I just didn't know she felt that way. And you wanna know what's _really_ fucked up? I didn't even know that _I_ felt that way, too, until I tried to kiss you."

"Wow."

"I know, right? Life sucks."

"Actually, I was referring to the part where you admitted out loud that you have feelings for her."

"Yeah, yeah, get it all out while you can — you were right, I was wrong, blah, blah…"

"I'm not going to do that. I'm happy for you."

"Well, don't start getting _too_ excited. She still hates my guts right now, remember?"

"Only because you hurt her feelings."

"So you're saying that she hates me… because she _likes_ me? Why do you girls have to be so confusing? What am I supposed to do with _that_?"

"It's really none of my business so I don't want to get involved."

"Fine, you're no help. I guess I'll just see her at the party. Maybe she'll calm down by then and —"

"Oh, actually… you're not invited."

"Huh?"

"Mimi's party. You're not invited anymore."

"I'm not… She _uninvited_ me? She can't do that!"

"It's _her_ party, Tai, she can do whatever she wants. Are you honestly surprised that she doesn't want you there?"

"Well — no, but — this is so unfair! How's a guy supposed to redeem himself if he's _banned_ from her presence?"

"She's upset, don't you get —"

"I'm going to that party, Sora. Somehow, someway, I'll be there."

" _No_ , Tai. I won't let you do that!"

"I thought you didn't want to get involved."

"I _don't_ — but I also don't want you to get arrested for _trespassing_."

"I'm not letting her go that easy. Not now, not ever."

"Tai, don't —"

CLICK.

* * *

**December 28th, 2015**

The front door of the coffee shop flew open, inviting in a gust of wintry air, followed by the pretty tinkle of the bell hanging above the entryway. TK snapped his gaze up from the notebook he'd been hunched over. Some girl he didn't recognize had entered the shop, chatting happily with two of her equally unrecognizable friends. TK's posture relaxed like a deflated balloon and he returned his attention back to his scribbles.

The Busy Bean, in TK's opinion, was the only competent coffee shop in their hometown. Though, in everyone else's opinion, TK was a legitimate coffee snob. The kind who posted pictures of intricate latte art on his instagram page. The kind who used pretentious words like _earthy_ and _robust_ to describe the flavor of his drinks. The kind who would spend more than twenty seconds explaining his desired order to the barista in explicit detail. He could practically still hear Kari's good-natured groan while he stated the exact temperature he wanted his coffee brewed. Then he would glance at her, ocean blue eyes peeking through a thin veil of golden fringe, and wink as he handed some cash to the barista. Kari's groan would turn into more of a giggle, and TK's heart would skip a beat.

Those were the kind of fond memories that would invade his brain whenever he caught a whiff of sweet hazelnut or heard the noisy purr of an espresso machine, but he did his best to push them aside. They wouldn't do him any good now. He didn't want to dwell on the things he couldn't have. The things he couldn't get back. The things he couldn't change. The things he —

The chair across from him squeaked in protest as it was dragged against the faux-wooden floor and, suddenly, Kari was sitting down in it, all pink-cheeked and windblown from the brisk weather.

"Merry Christmas."

TK sat up with a start, and, indeed, noticed an oddly shaped package wrapped in festive paper waiting on the table in front of Kari's grinning face. It was a perfectly harmless sight, though TK's suspicious gaze suggested otherwise.

"I thought we agreed on no presents this year," he said, eyes narrowed.

"We say that every year," she reminded him. "And then I end up getting you something anyway."

"Rebellion, thy name is Kari Kamiya."

Her grin stretched wider. "Just open it."

He did as he was told, mostly because he wouldn't dare disappoint such enthusiasm from her warm, attentive eyes. Kari drummed her gloved fingertips against the tabletop in anticipation as TK's fingers ripped through the wrapping paper to reveal:

"Hey," he chuckled when he saw the familiar black and white print come into plain view. "It's our article."

"Somehow I managed to grab a copy from the newsstand without getting my arm ripped off by a rabid fangirl," she smirked, leaning forward for dramatic effect, although she was only half joking. "I literally put my life in harm's way for you."

TK's nose crinkled in disapproval. "Which makes me sound like even more of a chump for not getting you anything."

"I didn't want anything. I just wanted you to have this," Kari insisted. Then, a bit sheepishly, she removed something from her bag and set it on the table. "Oh, and this, too."

His posture slumped in defeat when his eyes landed on yet another neatly wrapped gift. "Kari…"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't just _not_ get you a present!"

"You have a problem. A real problem. Obsessive-compulsive gifting."

Kari said nothing. She simply clasped her hands together in her lap, playfully feigning patience, and motioned toward the gift with her delicate chin. With an exaggerated sigh, TK surrendered. Again. He peeled the wrapping paper away from the small object, layer by layer, until he caught a glimpse of gorgeous leather binding. He held the new journal in his hands, eyes widening at how sturdy and smooth it felt in his grasp.

"I know how quickly you go through journals," Kari was quick to explain, looking toward the old one in front of him, which was already nearly filled with words. "And I figure you're going to need a fresh one for next semester."

Curiosity piqued, he asked, "What's next semester?"

"Well, nothing is official yet, _but_ ," she bit down on her bottom lip, as if she were physically trying to contain her excitement. "I'm going to ask Catherine if I could become a _permanent_ photographer for the newspaper team — since I had such a great time helping out this semester and all. If I just rearrange my schedule a bit, then we can keep working on articles together."

"I don't know if that's gonna work out, Kari," said TK, his grip tightening around the leather journal.

"I know Catherine can be a little rough around the edges sometimes," the girl's brow was furrowed at TK's quick dismissal as she rebounded, "but I think if I just ask —"

"No, it's not that," he muttered. "She'd be crazy not to bring you on the team."

Kari was at a loss. "Then what is it?"

"I'm quitting the paper."

It was quick and simple, like a paper cut, but it still stung with unexpectedness. Kari stared at him across the table, part of her waiting for him to crack a smile and admit that it was all some big joke. But he didn't. He just fidgeted uncomfortably beneath her watchful gaze. And it was with blood-chilling shock that she realized he was serious.

"You're _what_?" she snapped. "But _why_?"

"Look, Kari, we can talk later," TK began gathering his things into his messenger bag, and she didn't fail to notice the hurried pace at which he moved. "I have to go. I have to go check on Matt."

"Wait —"

Kari stood, but TK was already on his feet, moving toward the front door with his bag slung over his shoulder and his beanie sagging a bit lower than normal on his head. She could tell when he was hiding something and this was no ordinary secret — this was a _big_ secret. She chased after him, the bell above the door bidding her farewell as she fled. He was already gaining distance as he hurried across the parking lot toward his blue Mini Cooper, but Kari wasn't letting him get away without an explanation. She followed his footprint trail against the slush-covered pavement.

"TK!"

He dug into his pocket to search for his keys, cursing himself under his breath for wasting time and allowing Kari the chance to catch up. And when she did, her slender frame easily slid between TK and his car, leaning her back against the door to physically block his escape.

"You love the paper. You're the best writer they have," she told him sternly. "I don't understand."

TK blew some air past his lips, feet shuffling restlessly against the snow. "Maybe that's because you're not supposed to."

"Did something happen?" Kari tried again, desperate for answers. "With Catherine, maybe?"

"Kari…" he shook his head.

"Because I'm sure you two can work something out if —"

"It's not because of her, alright? It's because of you."

If the paralyzed look on TK's face was any indication, then those words flew from his mouth quite by accident. Kari, too, was frozen in place, cheeks heating up to a vibrant red shade despite the cold temperature.

"Me?" she nearly whispered, a hollow, choked imitation of her voice.

TK inhaled deeply through his nose. He knew that she was probably hurting on the inside, accepting blame that wasn't hers and drowning in guilt for causing whatever mess had just been made. But it wasn't her fault — and TK wasn't sure how to tell her that without admitting the truth that he'd been hiding for so long.

Now he was out of options.

"I don't think that we can be partners anymore," he began carefully, as if his words were dancing on a minefield. One wrong step would also be his last.

Kari continued to stare at him with a heavy gaze. "Why not?"

"Because I don't think I can be around you without falling in love with you."

It wasn't making sense. TK wasn't making any sense. She just kept staring at him, terrified that, at any moment, he would either take a step closer or take a step back — and she honestly didn't know which would be scarier.

"But…" Kari's breath trembled in her lungs. " _You're_ the one who wanted to start over. _You_ wanted to be friends again."

"It's not enough for me," he told her simply. "God, I wish it was, but it's just not."

His words were raw and honest, but there was a fear hiding behind his blue orbs that Kari hadn't seen since last spring, standing beneath the streetlamp's glow with nothing but a hopeful and yearning heart.

She just had to look away, so she stared down at her hands. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything if you aren't going to mean it," said TK.

Kari could feel the bitter breeze slapping her in the face, stinging her moist eyes and drying out her throat. But it was nothing compared to the ache inside her chest that pulsed with every passing second until she found the strength to choke out a reply.

"…TK," she peered up again, brimming with sincerity and an urgent need for him to understand. He just _had_ to understand. "You're my best friend in the _whole world_ —"

That was all it took for him to break. Every muscle in his body tensed and all the foolish hope drained from his eyes, leaving nothing in its wake except a dull, empty void. He reached behind Kari and popped open the car door and she, with no power left in her body, limply stepped aside.

"Wait," she pleaded. "TK, please."

He was already seated behind the steering wheel, but he paused before shutting the door. "I gave you space when you needed it, Kari, so just… return the favor."

Then she found herself standing alone in the parking lot, watching TK's car pull out onto the street and disappear with the traffic.

* * *

**December 29th, 2015**

He wasn't quite sure why he decided to walk into that old record store. Because, _seriously_ , did people even listen to CDs anymore? It was the kind of quaint, vaguely hipster-esque shop that he normally wouldn't even grace with a passing glance, but, as he jogged down the sidewalk that afternoon, his feet carried him through the doorway without much consultation from his brain.

The interior wasn't half bad, he told himself, even though it was eerily quiet and smelled like stale tortilla chips. He gave a polite, mildly awkward nod to the employee behind the counter, who looked like he couldn't care less about a guest entering the shop — or anything else, for that matter. Tai approached the wooden shelves, marked with stains from god-knows-what and each one displaying an alphabetized array of musical artists.

Again, his feet responded on their own accord. He headed straight for the K's.

_Keane… The Killers… Kings of Leon… Knife of Day._

He stopped. The jewel cases looked more pristine than some of the others — a new arrival. Tai licked his lips, glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the coast was clear, and then grabbed the album for a closer look.

The cover featured the band's logo in a sloppily handwritten font. Beneath it was the band with Matt front and center, staring at the camera like he'd just been rudely woken up from a nap. Tai wanted to snort out loud, send an embarrassing snapchat, _something_. But he couldn't — because the only thing he noticed when he studied that album cover was that he didn't recognize the broody frontman glaring at him through the plastic case. That hollow shell of a rockstar was _not_ his best friend.

"I wouldn't waste my money on that crap if I were you."

Tai jumped, the album fumbling out of his hands and clattering to the floor in the least subtle way possible. Then he spun around with a start, only to find Matt standing a few feet away at the end of the vacant aisle. The blond's hands were shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders slumped and eyes devoid of spark. He appeared oddly calm for someone who was last seen decking his friend in the face.

"I dunno. Might be worth it," said Tai, recovering. He picked up the CD and flipped it over in his hands a few times. "I could use a good laugh."

The corner of Matt's mouth twitched upward, as if he almost found that humorous, but not quite. He stepped forward, moving like a shadow, and Tai resisted the urge to take a step back. The brunet watched as the other boy grabbed another copy of his album off the shelf and stared at it with silent, seething disdain.

"You know," Matt began, voice low and eyes still trained on his own unsmiling face. "I've been dreaming about this day for years. Seeing my first album on the shelves. I just never imagined it'd be like _this_."

"Hey," Tai frowned in an attempt to be comforting. "It can't be _that_ bad."

"You sure about that?"

They ended up buying the CD, though it seemed like a strange formality in Tai's opinion. Then they walked around to the parking lot where they sat in Matt's car and listened to the entire album, start to finish. Surprisingly, Tai had mustered up enough self-control to stifle his amusement until midway through the second song, but then he was leaning back in the passenger seat, guffawing up at the ceiling. Matt joined in, eventually, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel and his back pulsating with laughter. They laughed until the album played through. They laughed until their cheeks hurt and their eyes watered. They laughed because they needed to. They laughed until their lungs ran out of air and they were left gasping and breathless against the leather upholstery.

"Oh my god," he wheezed. "That was…"

"I know."

Tai looked over at his friend, who still had a small trace of a smile on his face, but his brow was knitted together like he might be in pain, his forehead creased as his fingertips pressed against his temple.

"What happened to _your_ music?" he wondered.

Matt shrugged. "Not what the label wants."

"But they want this shit instead?"

"They want money," he said bitterly. Then, a scoff, "And an idiot who'll do whatever they tell him to do."

Tai reclined, the back of his skull hitting the headrest with a cushioned thud. "I guess we've both been acting like idiots lately."

The blond shifted his gaze a fraction of an inch, but just enough to look at his friend and the purpling bruise around his eye. It reminded him of all the damage that he'd done on that night when everything collapsed, so he turned away again, unable to face the guilt.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he finally concluded.

It was the closest thing to an apology that Tai was likely to receive.

"So," he began slowly. "You're really leaving for this tour thing, huh?"

"I don't have a reason to stay anymore," was Matt's muttered reply. Tai knew that he was referring to _her_ , but said nothing. "I'm on my own now."

The sound that bubbled up in Tai's throat took them both by surprise. It wasn't helpful or sympathetic like the boy's previous intentions. Rather, it was petulant and just a bit cold. Matt turned on him, brows raised and a cutting remark ready to spring from his mouth, but Tai was already pushing back.

"Face it, Matt. You've never been on your own — not before and not now. We've all had your back this whole time," he said. "And if you hadn't been trying so hard to be mister tough guy for once, then maybe you wouldn't have pushed us all away."

Matt's expression dropped, much like his heart plummeting into his stomach at the harsh realities behind his friend's words. It wasn't easy to hear and part of him — his more hotheaded side — wanted to lash out, but there was very little energy left inside his being. He was forced to reconcile. He was forced to accept.

"I thought it'd be easier," he croaked, staring hard at some imaginary point on the opposite window that Tai couldn't see, "to keep everyone away from the insanity."

"That's what friends are for, man," Tai explained with added warmth in his tone. He even dared to reach out, clapping a hand down on the other boy's shoulder. "To _help_ you take on the insanity when you can't do it by yourself."

He didn't shake off his touch. He didn't pull away. Tai knew how much that meant.

"I think we need to hug it out now."

Then Matt actually did pull away. "I'd rather not."

" _C'mon_. I'm really feeling the _love_ here —"

"Get out of my car."

* * *

**December 30th, 2015**

"Davis, don't touch that!"

Kari whirled around just in time to stop Davis' wandering hands from ruining the photo prints that were hanging by a piece of string above her window. His outstretched fingers froze and his expression looked suspiciously similar to a child who had just been caught with a cookie in his mouth before dinner.

"Why not?" he asked cluelessly.

"Because," Kari mumbled as she got up from her desk, heading over to examine the prints — just in case. "They need to dry first."

With a hearty groan, he flopped backwards onto her blue and white bed. "Well, how long is it supposed to take? We've been waiting around, like, _all day_."

"It's barely noon, Davis," she pointed out swiftly. "And, I'm sorry, but this project is going to be worth forty percent of my overall grade. It's important."

"We're on winter vacation and you're seriously working on school stuff?" he whined.

Kari stomped back over to her desk where she'd been sifting through old memory cards on her laptop. "I like getting a head start."

Davis blew a raspberry and drawled, " _Boring_ …"

But she was already tuning him out, scrolling through the computer screen of old pictures she'd taken throughout the semester. Kari didn't need any criticism for her choices. She liked to work. She was _good_ at it. And, most importantly, it kept her busy. After her conversation with TK at the coffee shop, she quickly discovered that free time was a very dangerous thing. Her mind would replay the words she was desperately trying to forget. ' _I don't think I can be around you without falling in love with you_ '. ' _It's not enough for me_ '. ' _Return the favor_ '.

Her finger jammed against the arrow button a bit too hard, sending pictures flashing across her screen until they blurred together. Kari softened her touch and the pictures slowed down to a halt. She halted, too, when a familiar pair of blue eyes were staring back at her through the laptop. It was a selfie — rather, an _attempted_ selfie — that she'd taken of the two of them at Matt's concert. They were standing in the front row with TK singing along very loudly and very poorly to the band's songs, making Kari laugh so hard that she could barely hold the camera steady.

His smile was wide. Hers was even wider. And they both looked so happy — so _alive_.

"Hey, Kari!"

She turned over her shoulder when Davis' voice caught her attention, and then she heard the telltale _snap_ of a polaroid. Davis was still lounging on her bed, laughing riotously as he pulled the photo out of the camera to reveal the girl's startled expression.

"Davis, that's not a _toy_ ," she scolded, marching toward him.

He squirmed away and held up the camera for another candid shot. "Oh, yeah?"

It was even funnier than the last photo — even Kari found herself chuckling when she saw the closeup of her pouting face. Still, she leaned forward to snatch the camera, missing by a mile and falling face first into the mattress. Davis took another picture, which prompted Kari to launch herself at him as he tried to catch his breath. They laughed and wrestled and gasped for air, forgetting about the camera as it took errant shots of the ceiling, the wall, his foot. They finally relented, stretched out across the mattress, surrounded by polaroids.

She giggled, craning her neck to look at Davis. He was alarmingly close and moving even closer, but it wasn't until his eyes closed and she could feel his warm breath against her flushed cheek that she fully understood what was happening. Kari knew that this was when she was supposed to take a deep breath, calm her fluttering heart, and lean in to meet his awaiting lips. It made sense. It was the moment. It was time.

And yet, her eyes flickered to the photo that was still displayed across her laptop screen. One look and, suddenly, she _knew_. Kari laid there and watched Davis scoot in closer, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

She _couldn't_ do anything as she imagined meeting up with Davis before a date, her face lighting up when she spotted him in the distance, but her eyes wouldn't spark with fire for him. Her pulse would speed up, but wouldn't race. Her touches would be fond, but never passionate. Davis could be her boyfriend, but it wouldn't be _special_ — not like there was a constant spotlight shining on him from Kari's eyes. It wouldn't be unkind or uncaring. It would be casual, easy, and without pressure. It would be nice. It would be warm and supportive. It would be undemanding and uncritical.

Kari would care about him — possibly even fall in love with him — but it wouldn't feel like that photograph. It wouldn't be enough.

It was never, ever going to be enough.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I love how Matt and Tai's relationship can basically be summed up with: Remember that time I punched you in the face? Yeah, dude. We cool though, bro? Yeah, bro, we cool. Cool.

Thanks for reading, you fantastic people! Stick around for the next chapter. We're getting so close to the end of the tunnel, guys. So close!


	12. Chapter 12

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** UM HI. This chapter has been a long time coming and honestly? I have no good excuse for such a crazy delay. Life, I guess? Life got in my way. Still, I think I deserve a liiiiittle pat on the back for following through. I did promise I wouldn't leave you guys hanging, didn't I? :) 

 **About Us**  
Chapter 12

* * *

 

**December 31st, 2012 - New Year’s Eve, Freshman Year**

“Do you think she’ll ever stop _squawking?_ ”

Tai’s whiskey-scented breath wafted right past Sora’s left ear, but he, of course, was referring to Mimi, who was officially beginning her sixth consecutive round of karaoke. The first two songs had actually been quite impressive, but each performance that followed took a slightly clumsier, _sloppier_ turn as the champagne continued to flow.

To their right, Matt snorted against the rim of his wine glass. “She’s got an audience at her disposal and a _tiara_ on her head. So all signs point to _no_.” 

Shrill, riotous laughter cried out over the karaoke track of some Kesha song that she didn’t exactly know _all_ the lyrics to — at least not when she was _that_ tipsy — and caused the microphone to screech with feedback. Mimi had stationed herself on the makeshift stage in her parents’ grand foyer, fumbling around in her four-inch heels like a baby bird. The sight, however amusing, was overwhelmingly _sparkly_ , considering that her attire consisted of a form-fitting dress made entirely of gold sequins and, as Matt had pointed out, a bedazzled plastic tiara sitting slightly crooked atop her voluminous brunette mane.          

“Be nice, you two,” Sora chided. “She’s just having a good time.” 

“Usually when she’s having a good time, everyone else is suffering.”

“Oh, _stop_ —“

Another screech blasted through the speakers, powerful enough to make all the party-goers wince and groan in discomfort. But Mimi, oblivious to their protests, carried on with her catastrophic performance — with _gusto_. It wasn’t until her foot got tangled up in the microphone chord, nearly tripping off the front of the stage to the soundtrack of bubbly pop music, that Tai decided he’d had enough.

“Alright,” he grumbled defiantly, tossing back the remains of his drink in one fluid gulp. “Someone’s gotta put an end to this _torture_ before she gets herself killed up there.”

Matt watched, lips slightly upturned in amusement, as his friend attempted to wrangle the stubborn singer off the stage. Mimi had managed to swat him over the head a few times, but the scuffle ended with her hoisted over his shoulder, fruitlessly thrashing her limbs while Tai towed her away from the beloved spotlight. The blond chuckled at the sight, a subtle shake of his head as the music came to a resounding end. A pathetic excuse for applause filled the room, but, mostly, Matt could only hear the awkward silence that suddenly lingered between him and a certain redhead at his side.

He busied himself with a lingering sip from his glass, but Sora’s eyes were still trained on his profile.

“You should go up there next,” she said at last.

He scoffed. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for that.”

“I’m being serious.” Her voice was low, but soft as she continued, “I love hearing you play.”

He froze, attention shifting to challenge the girl’s genuine stare with disbelief. “You do?”

“Well…” and, almost immediately, her cheeks reddened. She looked downward at the half-empty champagne glass cradled in her lap, mentally blaming its effects for such a bold admittance. “I mean — _yes_. You’re really talented, Matt.”

Compliments were common, but only typically from the mouths of giggling girls who liked the way his blue eyes shimmered under the concert lights more than they liked the sound of his music. Hollow, empty praises that satiated his ego more than his heart. Which was why Matt faltered — struggled to produce a proper reply — when words so meaningful reached his unready ears.

A scratch at the nape of his neck, an unsettled downward glance, was his only response. And yet Sora understood every wordless intention. 

“I go to all your concerts, you know.”

A tentative sliver of blue looked up through dark lashes. “I didn’t think you actually listened.”

“Of course I listen,” she said. “Sometimes I feel like the only way to ever figure out what you’re thinking is through your music.”

Her brazen candor prompted his gaze to lift even higher, brow furrowing with slight indignation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sora covered her mouth as she laughed, but the sound still reached Matt’s ears — light, gentle, _carefree_. She should never stop laughing, he thought. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” the redhead insisted. “You’re just a private person — but your songs are so honest… It’s _nice_.”

All he could do was continue to stare, still spellbound by her sincerity, and hope that the wandering of his thoughts never reached the windows of his eyes. A mere ‘thank you’ would never suffice, and yet Matt found himself wanting to say something — _anything_ — in return.

“Mission accomplished,” Tai staggered back to their sides, a fresh drink in hand, disrupting the peace with his rowdy presence. “The princess has returned to her castle. I repeat — the princess has returned to her castle.”

Sora turned to him, prematurely exasperated. “What did you do?”

“Me? I was the knight in shining armor who saved the day — and I got the claw marks to prove it.”

“Tai…”

“She’s fine, okay?” he said. “Just got her to pass out in her room.”

“She’s going to hate you when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, and what else is new?”      

And then the unexpected _crackle_ of the microphone caught everyone’s attention.

“Uh, hey,” Matt’s amplified voice cut through the idle chatter of party guests as he stood in the center of Mimi’s makeshift stage, looking quite uncomfortable. “I — I’m not really prepared, but I was asked to come up here by someone… by this _girl_. And if you know her like I do, you wouldn’t have said no to her either.”   

Maybe it was only her imagination, but Sora suddenly felt a roomful of eyes watch her as she stared onward, frozen with disbelief.

“This girl… she thinks that my songs are the only way to find out what I’m really thinking. And, as usual, she’s right. I can’t always just say what I really wanna say. Especially to her. So, instead, I’m gonna play this song…”

And he reached for the glossy acoustic guitar propped up in the far corner of the stage. Knowing Mimi, however, the instrument was most likely placed for aesthetic purposes rather than functionality.

“The thing is, though —“ he returned to the microphone with newfound confidence filling the sound of his voice now that he had something so familiar within his grasp. “— she already knows this one. She’s probably heard me play it close to a hundred times… But I don’t think she knows that it’s about her.”

Sora felt the entire world shift, but she remained still.

“It’s _always_ been about her.”

And, again.

“About _us_.”

He strummed the first chord, and she held her breath.   

* * *

 

**December 31st, 2015 - New Year’s Eve, Present**

“This is undoubtedly your most idiotic plan to date. Which is quite the accomplishment. Congratulations.”  
 ****

“Not the time for attitude, Iz.”

“The household _is_ equipped with a front door, in case you’re unaware.”

“What, crashing a party through the main entrance? Amateur move, man.”

“Oh, so I suppose you think that _illegal breaking and entering_ has a bit more finesse?”

“Don’t mean to interrupt, but I think now’s a good time to remind you guys about the chronic muscle spasms in my right shoulder blade…?”

“Can it, Doc, and keep hoisting!”

Joe’s slender legs wobbled beneath him as he balanced Izzy’s weight on his back. Izzy winced in pain while Tai squirmed around atop his shoulders, stretching his arms to their full extent in a desperate attempt to grab hold of the protruding window ledge.

Not so coincidentally, the very same window ledge that led to Mimi’s bedroom.

“If such drastic measures are required,” Izzy grunted, “then I can only assume that she doesn’t _want_ to see you, Tai.”

“So that means I’m supposed to give up?” the brunet demanded, his fingertips grazing the stone ledge, but slipping back down again. “Just like that? Don’t think so. I can’t — I can’t lose her.”

“Technically, she was never really _yours_ to lose.”

The correction made him frown. He was right. That made his frown only deepen.

“ _Awesome_. Thanks for the pep talk, guys,” Tai deadpanned. “So lucky that I have friends who give such great words of encouragement right before I’m about to bare my soul —”

“ _Gah_ … muscles… cramping!”

And that was the only warning Joe could manage before his legs gave out beneath him. With a cry, Izzy tumbled to the hard ground, but Tai still dangled from the window, unwilling to accept defeat. His feet scraped against the side of the house, seeking some sort of leverage. Adrenaline and sheer stubbornness were his only tools for swinging himself over the ledge and diving nose-first into Mimi’s bedroom. His biceps burned with exertion as he lay flattened against the plush carpet, humoring the notion of staying there until somebody stumbled upon him.

“Tai?”

He pushed up onto his elbows, craning his aching neck upwards to meet the disapproving glare of Sora. “Uh… hey.”

“Hey?! What are you _doing_ here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter — _you’re_ the one who’s not supposed to…” Only then did she take in his current state, a pitiful heap on the floor. “Did you — climb through the window?”

“Maybe.”

“You have to go!” Sora urged in a panic. “If Mimi finds out that you’re here, she’ll —”

“I know I don’t deserve a second chance, okay?” he began. “But just let me see her. Just do this for me, Sora, please. _Please_.” 

An ill-timed knock at the door made them both flinch, and then Mimi’s muffled voice rang out from the other side, “Sora, hon? Are you still in there?”

“Y-Yeah, sure am!” The redhead called back, all while swatting at Tai’s head and ignoring his hisses of protest until she sent him slithering away under the bed for safety. “Just… finishing up.”

The scuffle ended as soon as the door creaked open to reveal Mimi in a ruffled gold cocktail dress. Her concerned eyes immediately found Sora, standing in the center of the room in her own red ensemble, pokerfaced and looking only mildly frazzled.

“Look at _you_ , missy!” The brunette chirped as she stepped into the room to grip her friend’s shoulders. “See? Don’t you feel better now that you’re all dressed up?”

Her red hair swung freely around her face in a distracted nod. “Yeah. I do. But…”

She paused, halted by the echo of Tai’s pleas inside her skull. _Please, please…_    

“—Actually, Mimi, I… left something. Downstairs. I’ll just be a second.”

Head canted to the side, Mimi watched the other girl slip past her and head towards the door. “Should I come, too?”

“No,” Sora answered, trying not to let her gaze linger on the foot of the bed. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Confused but supportive, she allowed her friend to make an exit, leaving her in the heavy silence of the vacant bedroom. She chose not to question Sora’s hasty departure, for a heartbroken woman was capable of many odd behaviors. She understood this all too well. A delicate sigh fell past her lips, only to be sharply inhaled once again, as a hand slid out from under the bed and wrapped around her exposed ankle.

Mimi’s blood-curdling scream filled the room, but did nothing to deter the mysterious grasp. She wriggled, and writhed, and then finally used her available foot to stamp down — _hard_ — upon the intruder’s wrist.

“Fuck! Mimi — _fuck_ — it’s me!”

The head of bushy brown hair that crawled unceremoniously out from under the bed sent her reeling.

“You… you…”

She seemed to be stuck, outrage beginning to contort her colorless face. She wanted to yell at him — call him a lowlife, a piece of scum, and a variety of other creative names. She wanted to make it very clear that his presence was _not_ welcome. And yet all she could muster was a pivot before marching herself out of the room.

And somehow that stung more than words ever could.                               

* * *

 

**December 31st, 2015 - 11:03pm**

As Kari passed through the gilded doorway of the Tachikawa’s lavish household, she couldn’t help but notice that Mimi had truly outdone herself this year.  
 ****

The impressive mansion was already somewhat of a spectacle, with its sheer size and pristine decor, but special occasions were always an opportunity to _dazzle_ — and dazzle, it certainly did. Crystalline lights dangled from the vaulted ceiling in opulent rows, washing the entire foyer in a golden glow. In place of previous years’ makeshift stage and deejay, a grand piano was tucked into the corner, with a hired pianist to accompany the buzz of party guests while they chatted and sipped champagne. The room’s centerpiece, a spiraling staircase of white marble, was lined with miniature candles, illuminating every step that led to the elusive second floor.      

Still, Kari gave little of her attention to the magnificence. Her gaze was already busy scanning the crowd, searching for the person who made her eyes sparkle brighter than any party ever could. She sank further into the elegant mob, brushing shoulders and sharing rushed _excuse me’s_ with party-goers who made her feel terribly under-dressed even in her most formal attire. 

And then, from across the room, she spotted him.      

The only person she knew who could wear a beanie with a dress shirt and still manage to look annoyingly dapper.    

“TK!” she called out, shouldering past another swarm of stylish guests.

His beanie’d head turned, and startled blue eyes blinked in surprise when they caught sight of the girl navigating through the throng of bodies until she stood before him.

“Kari? What are you doing here —”

“I have something to say,” she interrupted, breathless, but resolute. “And if I don’t say it right here, right now… I don’t think I ever will.” 

There was something different about her, TK noticed. Maybe it was her stare, strong and unwavering. Or maybe it was her posture, straightened and tall. Or maybe — just _maybe_ — it was her spirit. As she faced him, demanding attention, it were as if a dark cloud had somehow lifted, giving way to the shining light that he always knew was inside her.

So, with a subtle nod of his head, TK granted her permission to continue. And she did.

“You were right. You’ve been right this entire time, TK. My photos are lifeless — because _I’m_ lifeless,” and the words spilled out of her mouth rather clumsily, flustered by nerves. “I know that I spend too much time worrying about everyone else, and all the things I can do to make _them_ happy… But you helped me realize that _I_ deserve to be happy, too. I don’t want to settle. I want to feel _alive_. I want to take a stand for the things that _I_ want.” 

TK was paralyzed where he stood, captivated by her revelation.

Kari could feel her lungs beginning to crave oxygen, but she pushed through her rambling thoughts, “And I’m sorry that it took me so long to get here — to realize that… _well_ … that I love —”         

“Oh, TK, there you are.”

The moment was promptly shattered by the piercing blade of reality. More specifically, a cute bespectacled girl with flushed cheeks and long, dark hair. She scurried to TK’s side, and the blond boy gaped, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, for only a second before regaining a sense of composure.

“Meiko,” he said. “Hi, uh… You’re here!”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry for making you wait… I couldn’t find you anywhere. I didn’t know there’d be so many people.”

“Well, that’s Mimi for you.”

Finally, the girl named Meiko noticed Kari, who was standing before the pair, looking nothing short of overwhelmed.

“Um…” Meiko squeaked warily. “I hope I didn’t interrupt…”

“No!” Kari insisted, snapping out of her daze. “No, of course not. I was just —” 

TK intervened, “Meiko, this is Kari. My good friend.”

“Oh!” and the raven-haired girl turned to Kari with a shy smile. “It’s very nice to meet you.” 

“Kari, this is Meiko,” he said, with only half of his gaze meeting her face. It was all that he could bear. “My _date_.” 

It didn’t take her very long to recognize the truth, even in her unsettled state. The ruefulness behind TK’s hesitant glance, his unusual tactlessness, and the way Meiko lingered closely at his side with honest naivety… The gears turned. The pieces clicked. It all made sense.

“… Right — it’s nice to meet you, too, Meiko,” Kari uttered with astounding poise, despite how foolish she felt in that moment. “But, actually, I… I should be going…”

“Already?” Meiko wondered. “Don’t you want to stay for the new year?”

TK was quick — _desperate_ , even — to add, “Yeah, you should stay.”

His words made her throat run dry, her legs go numb, and her heart start to ache. Of course she would stay. She _wanted_ to stay — but only if _she_ could be the girl on TK’s arm.

“I can’t,” she told them softly, nearly a whisper that ghosted past trembling lips. “Thank you, but… I need to go. I’m sorry.” 

As she spun on her heel to hurry away, she imagined what might happen if TK chased after her. He might grab her wrist and turn her around. He might look at her with those ocean-blue eyes and tell her that he loves her, that he’s _always_ loved her, and he never wants to stop. And then he might kiss her under the shimmering lights as they rang in the new year. _Together_.

Instead, Kari pushed her way to the front door, alone, with teardrops hitting the marble floor in her wake.

* * *

 

**December 31st, 2015 - 11:55pm**

The thumping of his hurried footsteps trailed behind the delicate click-clack of her heels as she escaped down the hallway.   
 ****

“Mimi, c’mon — just wait!”

She kept her stride even and her focus forward, deeming him unworthy of even the slightest bit of eye contact. “You _broke_ into my house to crash a party that you weren’t even _invited_ to, Taichi.”

“You weren’t answering my calls! You wouldn’t talk to me!” he flung back. “What was I _supposed_ to do?” 

“Take the hint, most likely.”

“Since when have I ever been good at doing that?”

His quip should have made her smile — roll her eyes in reluctant affection, at the very least — but it didn’t. It only seemed to pull at the raw edges of her tattered heartstrings even more. By the time she reached the top of the staircase, Tai had caught up to her, grabbing her wrist before she could make her descent.

“Mimi —” _I need you._  

“Leave.” _Before I start crying._

His grip tightened with a resounding, “No.”

The blaring adamancy in his tone forced her to whirl around on the spot, challenging his gaze with wild, glossy eyes. “No?”

“You heard me. I’m not leaving until you listen to me — until you hear me when I tell you that…” Tai swallowed around the bulging lump of fear inside his throat. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn’t that brave after all.

But he _had_ to be.

“…I want you. _Only_ you.” 

There was no seeable change in her steadfast stare, no ounce of emotion behind the hardened shield of those dark amber orbs as she scoffed aloud — a bitter, scathing sound. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”   

“The kind who’s a total pain in the ass.”

Finally, she reacted. Brow wrinkled, pupils expanded, jaw clenched — all the common symptoms of an oncoming meltdown, but Tai continued before she could detonate.

“You’re complicated and loud and, honestly, sometimes a little scary. Being around you is exhausting. You don’t make things easy for me, Meems, you never have — and I hope to God you never do. I wanna fight with you. I wanna feel like screaming over you. I want you to call me out when I’m being a jerk and I want you to drive me completely insane for no good reason.”

He was barely conscious of the way his free hand began inching into his pocket, fingers curling around the small velvet box that he never had the heart to return.

“That’s how I know this is for real, Mimi — because even after all that, I still want you to have this. Because I know it’ll make you smile. And making you smile is the best part of my day.”

 _Ten… nine… eight…_  

The crowd below them started chanting, counting down the final moments of the year, but Mimi remained in place. One hand gripped the marble banister for dear life, while the other fell to her side as Tai released it.

 _…seven… six… five…_  

His hands lightly shook while they opened the box, and he prayed that she wouldn’t notice. She did, but she found it endearing, so she didn’t say a word. Instead, she gasped, a soundless intake of breath that painted her cheeks with a dusting of pink.

_…four… three… two…_

“Like it?” he asked with an uncharacteristic amount of uncertainty. Mimi’s facade collapsed at her feet — tinted lips lifting into a smile, tears spilling over luscious lashes.

_…one…_

And then she grabbed his face between her hands, swift and impatient, pulling herself up to bring their lips together.

_…Happy New Year._

* * *

 

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Only two more chapters, you guys. And one of them is an epilogue. Can you believe it?! When I first started writing this story, I swore to myself that I'd see it through to the end. I've spilled too much of my heart into this fic to just abandon it. So, gosh dangit, I WILL finish this story!

I just want to say a quick thank you to all my readers. Especially the ones who read this chapter and have been reading since the very beginning. Even during my hiatus, I've gotten so many kind, supportive reviews and I just can't express how much that means to me. I don't deserve you guys. But I promise I won't let you down.  


	13. Chapter 13

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Well, it's been about 438723 years - so that means it must be time for me to update! Seriously though, guys. This is it. I know I mentioned before about doing an epilogue after this, but after finishing this chapter... I think it's done. It just feels  _done_  right now and I don't want to disturb it. I am, however, planning some sort of sequel. I highly doubt it will be a full-length multi-chapter  _thing_  like this one, but maybe a collection of drabbles or something. I have some ideas, but I just haven't completely fleshed it out yet. But as you'll read, there are a few minor "loose ends" that don't exactly get tied up. I think it's fine as is, honestly, but I would  _love_  to get the chance to expand on them a little bit. Who knows! But for right now, in this moment, I present to you... the final chapter.

 **About Us**  
Chapter 13

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 1:02pm**

"Are you sure you wanna go through with this?"

Matt pretended that he hadn't heard the very cautiously muttered question. With a soft grunt, he hoisted his suitcase into the trunk.

"Because we wouldn't blame you for changing your mind."

He reached for his duffel bag and swung it a little too roughly into the car along with the rest of his luggage. His friends shared a quick, but knowing sidelong glance.

"You know you can't back out once you start —"

"Guys —" He accented his brusque interjection with a slam of the trunk door. "—I'm  _going_."

There was a stagnant silence that filled the crisp, wintry air, followed by the fidgeting of fingers and the quietest of sighs. It were as if those obvious words had never been spoken aloud before, and doing so had shattered whatever optimism still remained. They'd spent the morning cleaning out Matt's room until it was barren, packing up his belongings, and loading everything into TK's car — and yet the weight of reality hadn't truly fallen upon their shoulders until that very moment.

"You'll probably be busy during the tour, but don't forget to take care of yourself," Joe broke the silence with a practical reminder.

"And don't forget to keep in touch," Izzy promptly added. "With today's technological advances in communication, there's no excuse for us not to hear from you on a regular basis."

A smile reached Matt's lips. It was small, but it was there. "I will. Don't worry."

" _Hrumph_."

From the stoop of their apartment building, there came a rather disgruntled grumble, and the three boys turned to discover the source. Tai sat on the bottom step, elbows on his knees, and palms framing either side of his scowling face. His eyes were comically narrowed, just thin slivers of brown beneath thick brows, and aimed directly at Matt. The blond lifted a hand to drag stiff fingers through the back of his hair, sighing because he knew that, despite being on the receiving end of his friend's impressive stink eye all morning, it was about time he reluctantly took the bait.

He sauntered forward, arms folded loosely over his chest, until his slender shadow loomed over Tai's slouching frame. "Still sulking?" he asked.

Tai's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Still  _leaving_?"

"I already told you," Matt began with a lowered gaze, and an even lower volume. "I don't have a reason to stay anymore."

"What, so now  _we're_  not a reason?"

With a sharp tilt of his head, he nodded toward Joe and Izzy — who merely continued milling around the parked car, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, pretending that they weren't at all interested in eavesdropping on the pair's private conversation.

"That's different," Matt responded vaguely, but Tai didn't fail to notice the way his voice took up an odd resonance just then, as if he were straining beneath some kind of imaginary weight. Years of unflappable — yet often complicated — friendship made the brooding musician an easier read than he intended to be.

But Tai was too upset to fight. And he could see that Matt was, too. So he did his friend one final favor and  _surrendered_.

"Yeah. I get it," he resolved. "Just… hard to see you go, man."

The silence returned, just as stifling, though a bit more prolific in discomfort, both of them a little unsure how to handle the admitted sentiment. Tai's hand sought out the nape of his neck, kneading the muscle there with nervous energy. The toe of Matt's shoe scraped against the sidewalk while he took a couple shuffling steps closer to the idle car.

"Right."

The blond hadn't even made a full rotation by the time Tai leapt to his feet.

"Hey, rockstar," his jaw was set, nostrils slightly flared, waiting for the other's attention, as indicated by the subtle lift of a flaxen brow. "Just because you don't think you have a reason to stay doesn't mean you don't have a reason to  _try_."

A few firm beats ticked by, with the two boys locking profound gazes, until Tai folded to his own amusement with a curved mouth, an indelicate snort.

"I sound like a prick, don't I?"

Matt didn't last long either, giving a brief chuckle. His friend's grin was tired but bright, trying to remain lighthearted — and for that, Matt felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen.

"Nah," he said. "You just sound like a sap who's in his first  _real_  relationship since the ninth grade."

With slow, languid strides, Tai was approaching, arms outstretched and expectant as he announced, "It's time."

"Tai —"

"Just let me have my moment, asshole."

And he did. Matt didn't even try to wriggle away when he finally fell victim to Tai's crushing embrace. Later, Joe and Izzy would claim that they  _swore_  they even saw him hugging back.

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 1:16pm**

She could hear the impatient blaring of sporadic car honks from outside the open window, two stories down.

"Almost there!" Kari flung over her shoulder, a bit distracted.

Even on tiptoe, her fingertips could barely graze the rough cardboard of the final shipping box, which someone had thoughtlessly stowed away on the top shelf of Matt's barren closet and left for all  _five-foot-three_  of her to find. A small, irritated huff and she tried again, muscles burning as they stretched past comfortable limits — but she was stubbornly determined, and mentally blamed her brother for that exasperating quality.

Which was then promptly proven by another, more sustained honk.

She gritted her teeth. "I  _said_  —"

" _Careful_."

In her frustration, she hadn't even noticed the box tipping downward, slipping off the edge of the shelf in what would've surely been a nasty nose bleed waiting to happen. A gasp ghosted past her lips as two larger hands darted out from behind to steady the box before it fell.

Her heart began thrumming noiselessly inside her chest before her eyes could even confirm that familiar presence. It just  _knew_.

"TK… Thanks."

She stepped back, placing more than a respectable amount of distance between them while he lowered the box to the floor. TK straightened up then, adjusting the beanie that sat a little crookedly atop his blond head.

"Ignore them," he smirked toward the window. "They're just giving you a hard time."

"I figured."

"How've you been?" TK ventured, as casual as a chat about the weather.

"Fine."

"So I heard that you and Davis didn't work out."

Kari blanched at his utter lack of decorum. Truthfully, she didn't know what was more startling — the bluntness of which he posed such a delicate conversation, or the fact that gossip seemed to travel at an alarming pace even while school wasn't in session.

"Yeah," she said slowly, evenly. "It just… wasn't a good fit."

"Sorry to hear that."

Although she was diligent to keep her eyes from wandering too much, a flicker of his smirk appeared in her peripheral, and so she couldn't resist calling him out with a dry, "Please. You're not sorry at all."

The smirk shamelessly widened. "No, I'm really not."

In spite of herself, Kari bit back a grin, but to no avail. She snickered quietly, and TK's own soft chortle soon followed, effectively chipping away at the forced precariousness surrounding their banter.

But it didn't last very long.

She should have excused herself then, explaining that she didn't want to keep the boys waiting, but what came out instead was, "So how are you and Meiko?" and she immediately regretted bringing up the one topic she'd been so persistent to forget. The question poured out of her mouth before she could stop it.

TK's grin faltered, but only for a fraction of a second, and when he finally spoke he used only deliberate, carefully-chosen words. "I think it's a good fit."

"Oh," Kari was surprised to find enough air in her lungs to produce a noise that didn't sound nearly as disappointed as she felt. Wobbly legs carried her over to Matt's freshly stripped mattress, and she plopped herself down on the edge, hands folded neatly in her lap. "Good."

"And what about you and me?" he asked gently.

"What about us?"

TK ambled closer, as if he were testing the unspoken boundaries that existed between them, and when Kari didn't budge, he sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, bedsprings squeaking beneath his added weight. "How do you think  _we_  fit?"

"I don't know, TK," she muttered, gaze fixed on the tops of her hands, idly wondering how long it would take before she'd be able to look him in the eyes again without getting lost in them. "It feels like we're just… never in the same place at the same time."

"Tragically star-crossed," he commented poetically, by way of agreement. His hand reached out then, covering her own, and she was too stiffened to retract. "You know, I never got the chance to tell you — what you said on New Years Eve… I want that for you, too. It's important to me that you're happy, Kari."

She peeked up through the dusty brown hair that shrouded either side of her bowed head, catching a glimpse of TK's meager, well-meaning grin. "Something tells me that I will be," she said.

"And something tells me that we'll finally meet in the same place," he paused before adding, " _Someday_."

It sounded like a promise, and so Kari gave a small nod.

"I hope so."

* * *

**January 6th, 2016**

"So…"

The dainty clink of silverware was paused long enough for her to cast a blank gaze across the table.

"So," she echoed.

But he seemed just as lost as she did, idly pushing a forkful of risotto around his plate. "Food's pretty good," he commented.

She nodded vehemently. "Oh, yes, delicious."

"And the wine, too."

" _Mhm_. Very nice. This restaurant is lovely."

"Got a lot of positive reviews online."

"Oh. That's good."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

And then they fell back into the uncomfortable silence that had been suffocating them from the moment they took their seats at the restaurant. The one that Tai had spent weeks researching online. The one that he was  _sure_  that Mimi would enjoy. The one that he wouldn't even think about setting foot in otherwise. It was stuffy and pretentious and — as he quickly learned — entirely too  _healthy_  for his taste.

He dropped his fork and leaned his elbows on the tabletop. "Okay, can I get something off my chest?"

Mimi mimicked his casual posture and looked very relieved to do so. "Please do."

"Is it just me or is this the  _worst_  first date you've ever had?"

"Definitely the worst," she agreed. "Like, of all time."

"Thank god," Tai sighed loudly. "I thought it was just me."

"We don't have anything to talk about," Mimi mused, worry beginning to settle in the center of her brow. "Why aren't we talking?"

"Beats me. Usually you never shut up."

The toe of her shoe swiftly jabbed his shin, making the entire table jerk from his pained recoil.

"Compliment me," she ordered with a flip of her brunette locks. "Tell me that I look absolutely  _ravishing_  in the candlelight."

"Mimi, you look absolutely ravishing in —"

"Oh, stop," and she slumped once again. "It wouldn't kill you to sound even  _remotely_  genuine."

Tai rested against the back of his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, utterly stumped by their predicament. "Shouldn't we be talking about, like, school and stuff? Our hobbies? You know, normal first date conversation?"

"Fine. Then ask me."

"But I already know all that stuff about you."

She tossed her hands up in defeat. "This is  _hopeless_."

"I think maybe that's our problem, Meems," he began slowly as the realization dawned on him. "We're already past all that awkward smalltalk. Now I wanna get to the  _big_  talk. You know, like, your childhood and what kind of music you listen to when no one else is around. And your favorite kind of flower and where you wanna live when you're older and what scares you — I wanna know the real  _you_."

"Pink chrysanthemums."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"You want to know my favorite flower — well, it's pink chrysanthemums," she stated plainly, a ghost of a coy smile crossing her rosy lips. "So now there's no excuse for me  _not_  to receive a bouquet on Valentines Day, my birthday, every anniversary…"

"We've been official for less than a week and you're already planning the anniversaries, huh?" Tai laughed. "You must be pretty crazy about me."

"You  _drive_  me crazy."

His smile was lopsided, charmed by her wit as he watched her from across the table — the way her brown eyes turned to warm amber in the candlelight's glow, and the way her tiny nose crinkled with every giggle that spilled out of her upturned lips. They didn't need traditions or formalities. They were messy. They were imperfect. They were falling fast.

"Hey," his voice lowered, comically suggestive and just loud enough for her ears. "Since  _this_  isn't really our style, what do you say we just fast-forward to date number three and head back to my place?"

"Only if we bring the wine."

" _God_ , you're  _perfect_."

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 2:33pm**

TK kept his eyes on the road. Matt's were gazing vacantly out the window, but he could still see his brother's fingers drumming a rhythmless beat against the steering wheel, their lack of conversation clearly making him uneasy.

"Let's see…" the younger sibling murmured when he could endure it no longer. His fingers fiddled with the plastic dial, sifting through radio stations until he landed on one that was free of static and commercials.

"… _Like a volcano-oh-oh-oh, like a volcano-oh-oh-oh —"_

Matt jammed his knuckle against the dial, dragging them back into utter silence.

TK dared not try again. He just pursed his lips, unsure of what to do except say, " _Catchy_."

His brother grunted, deeming the comment unworthy of even the slightest hint of amusement. He was too distracted by the street signs that told him they were only miles away from the airport, and by that stupid melody that was now ringing relentlessly in his ears — but mostly by his friend's parting words, which had decided to sequester themselves into every crevice of his mind.

"Do you think I'm trying?" He asked abruptly.

TK glanced sideways just long enough to give the other blond a once-over. "Maybe just a  _little_  too much. The hair gel's kind of  _a lot_."

Disgruntled, Matt snapped, "Not with my hair," and then, softer, "With…  _Sora_."

It was the first time in a very long time since TK had heard that name leave his brother's mouth with such ease. At first he assumed he had simply misheard, but when he could start to feel Matt's eyes on him, expecting an answer, he could only bring himself to skirt around the truth.

" _Ah_ … That's tricky," he drawled slowly, prolonging the inevitable. His fingers started tapping against the wheel again. "I mean, we can't really help the way we're raised, you know?"

"What does  _that_  mean?"

"Uh…" TK, with his sharp wit and unparalleled verbal dexterity, came up short. "It's nothing."

And it earned him a swift smack to the head. "Out with it,  _Teeks_."

He tried to dodge his brother's assault without swerving the car, and was somewhat successful. "I just think… maybe…" and his lips curved upward into a tentative, hapless smirk, "…you're kind of pulling a  _dad_."

Matt made a face. "A what?"

"You know how dad always says he did everything he could to save his marriage with mom? Well, looking back, I'm not so sure that's true," TK admitted with a heavy heave of his shoulders. "All I can remember is him running away to the office whenever things got too rough."

Matt's expression leveled out to a blank stare as he leaned into the back of his seat. TK, once again, couldn't handle the tense respite, and so he rambled on, hoping to instill a little more positivity in his brother's lifeless face.

"But hey — dad's pretty happy now, right? He loves work, he just got that promotion… Matt?"

He'd already tuned him out, lost somewhere amidst the guilt, the shame, and the staggering realization that, despite his greatest efforts, he was turning into his father — a man so besotted with his independence, but so crippled by fear that he destroyed every good thing he had in his life with his own bare hands. Matt never forgave him for the divorce, for giving up on his family. So how could Sora ever forgive  _him_?

He wasn't chasing his dreams. He wasn't trying. He was  _running away_.

"Turn around," Matt's voice was so low, so haunting that he barely recognized it himself.

"No offense, bro, but I don't think I should be taking directions from you when you've got crazy eyes like that."

"Turn the car around," he growled. " _Now_."

"Your flight leaves in an hour," TK protested. "We can't just —"

" _Turn around!"_

It all happened so fast — Matt dove for the steering wheel, yanking it out of his brother's grasp and turning them so sharply that their tires screeched in protest. The other cars on the road slammed their brakes to avoid a collision, honked their horns, yelled obscenities out their open windows, but Matt was already sending them over the street median, barreling down the road in the opposite direction.

"Are you insane?!" TK demanded after finally regaining control of the wheel. "We could've just died!"

"Take me to Sora's place. I need to see her."

"Is she home?" he tried to reason. "Does she even  _want_  to see you?"

"I don't know. I don't care," Matt was breathless, and the intemperate tenacity that shone in blue hues through his eyes was something that's been missing there for quite some time. "I just… have to  _try_."

To the eldest brother's utter surprise, a grin started to stretch across TK's face. The engine revved threateningly, and he chuckled, in spite of everything.

" _Now_  you're talking like a guy who deserves a second chance."

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 2:40pm**

MIMI [2:40pm]: Last chance to come with us!  
MIMI [2:40pm]: We can always share the guest room, you know. Slumber party!  
MIMI [2:40pm]: And it's not like Tai's parents would mind. You know they adore you.  
MIMI [2:41pm]: In fact, if I wasn't so delightful, they'd probably expect YOU to make a decent man out of their son.

SORA [2:44pm]: Thanks again, Meems, but I think I'm just going to have some alone time this weekend.  
SORA [2:44pm]: I have a lot of work to do, anyway. Graduation will be here before we know it, so I should start getting my portfolio ready for New York.

MIMI [2:45pm]: Laaaaaaame! jhgrk43uyg;uf  
MIMI [2:45pm]: Sorry! That was Tai.  
MIMI [2:46pm]: You'll be fine on your own, won't you?

SORA [2:46pm]: Don't worry about me. Just have fun, ok?  
SORA [2:46pm]: Tell the Kamiyas I say hi. And tell Tai he's an idiot.

MIMI [2:47pm]: Always. :)

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 4:23pm**

"So what's the plan?" TK wondered, pulling up to the familiar apartment building, engine purring softly as he put the car in park.

Matt was already climbing out through the passenger door and making his way around to lift open the trunk. He rifled through his things for a bit, but only had the patience to grab a duffel bag and his guitar case. "Don't exactly have one yet," he admitted.

"Spontaneous. I like it," and the slam of the trunk door made TK roll his window down, leaning out just enough to call to his brother, "Should I wait here or…?"

"Nah. Head home or whatever. I'll call you later," Matt slung the strap of his bag over one shoulder. He stood there for a moment, feeling overwhelmed, but managed to muster a crooked smile. "Thanks, little bro."

One of his blue eyes disappeared behind a waggish wink. "Go get 'er, you stud."

Matt watched the car grow smaller and smaller in the distance until he could no longer hear the rumbling engine or the sweeping breeze as it cut through the open air — just the crisp crunch of frost-covered grass blades flattening beneath his feet as he made his way to the front of the building. He sighed, breath clouding in front of his face, and removed his phone from his pocket, dialing the only number he knew by heart.

_Ring… ring… ring…_

" _Hi, you've reached Sora. Sorry I can't take your call right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"_

BEEP.

* * *

**January 9th, 2016**

When the doorbell rang at the Kamiya residence that afternoon, the last person that Kari was expecting to find on the other side was Catherine. The editor-in-chief stood there on the front porch with her long blonde curls piled high atop her head in casual disarray, but somehow still managed to look offensively prim and polished for someone who was supposed to be on winter vacation.

"Oh!" Kari said, blinking furiously at her unsmiling face and feeling helplessly unrefined in her flannel pajama bottoms. She could vaguely see the girl's little yellow car parked in the driveway. "Um, hi —"

"I didn't come to chit-chat. I have good news," Catherine stated without much preamble.

Kari froze, even more puzzled than before as she wondered, "For me…?"

Catherine sighed and it was a mildly irritated noise, one that sounded very familiar after a semester on the newspaper team. She never liked to explain herself more than once, and so she did it in the most efficient way possible — by whipping out her phone to scroll through her extensive inbox of emails.

"'Dear Miss Deneuve'," she began to recite from the message on her screen. "'The administration is delighted to inform you that, due to the rising success and critical acclaim of the newspaper's latest issue, we will continue to fund the production and distribution of —'"

"Is that from the Dean?" Kari asked.

"His secretary, technically, but yes," Catherine said with a smug smirk. "There's no way they can question our readership now that the December issue is flying off the shelves."

The younger girl chuckled, eyes swimming with delight. "That's amazing!"

"And it's all because of your article. Not bad for a temp," she eyed the other girl with an arched brow — something resembling intimidation despite the compliments that were spilling from her lips. "I thought you'd be the first to crack under the pressure, but I asked for spectacular and you didn't disappoint."

"Really?" Kari could feel her cheeks flush, her wide eyes turning dewy with gratitude. "Thank you so much, Catherine. That means a lot to me, coming from you. It was such an honor working with everyone this semester. I've learned so much and I feel like I've really grown as a —"

"Any respect I might've held for you just died an inglorious death the second you turned this conversation into a sappy love fest, Kamiya."

"Right. Sorry," she apologized, snapping out of her daze. "Well… I appreciate you stopping by to tell me the good news in person."

Catherine shrugged. "I was just passing through."

Kari knew it was a lie, exquisitely performed by an expert pokerface. She had it on good authority that Catherine lived on the opposite side of town, easily a half hour out of her way, and if there was one thing that the editor would not stand to waste, it was time. Her visit might've been brief and unsolicited, but it certainly wasn't without purpose. And although the realization brought a small smile to Kari's lips, she chose not to say anything about Catherine's newfound capacity for selflessness — because as the senior girl smiled back, they both acknowledged that it was something that didn't need to be discussed. Just quietly understood.

"But before I go," Catherine paused, still loitering on the porch. "It might be worth mentioning that we'll be needing a  _permanent_  photographer on the team for next semester," she shrugged again, calmly, and finished with an offhand utter of, "In case you're interested."

Kari beamed, extending her hand for a firm shake.

"I'm in."

* * *

**January 8th, 2016 - 5:05pm**

"… Because I'm not going anywhere."

More silence as he hung up the phone, letting it fall limp at his side, fingers still clutching and throbbing from winter's brutal chill. He glanced up at her window again. The light was still on, softened behind wispy, cream-colored curtains, the only indication that someone was there — that his efforts wouldn't be in vain. Or, at the very least, that he wouldn't be arrested for spending the night on the front steps.

His blue gaze redirected downward at his phone, as if staring long enough would make it buzz to life in his hands. He wanted to see her name flash across his screen. He wanted to feel that fire ignite in his chest that told him that she hadn't given up on him yet. A call, a voicemail, a text,  _anything_  —

"Matt."

He looked up and she was there — she was  _really_  there — standing in the doorway with a harrowing frown. Numb, chapped lips moved to speak, but not a sound came out, too bewildered. He remained silent even as she made the subtlest gesture for him to come in from the cold. And silent again as he collected his belongings, trailing behind on their way to her room. But when she stepped inside, and he tried to follow suit, the door was promptly — yet not entirely unexpectedly — shut in his face.

And so Matt spent his first night of many in the hallway outside Sora's door, armed with only a duffel bag of wrinkled clothes, his guitar, and a longing heart.

He stayed there for the remainder of the weekend, which was technically illegal, but none of the other tenants seemed to mind. Matt saw very little of Sora — just the occasional sighting when she stepped over him on her way out somewhere. And except for the time she accidentally-on-purpose kicked him, she acted as if he didn't exist. Matt fiddled with his phone and quietly strummed on his guitar, but mostly he just waited. He didn't know until much later the torment that Sora was going through on the other side of the door — the times she pressed her ear to the crack, listening to him breathe and play his soulful melodies.

The following weekend she opened the door long enough to hurl a blanket and a pillow at Matt's head, then slammed it shut again. The weekend after that she came out and wordlessly sat in the hallway with him, knees drawn to her chest, her elbows on her knees, and her forehead pressed into her fists. Matt didn't utter a sound. And when he scooted closer to her, she got up and went back into the apartment.

On the night of the fourth weekend, Sora let him in, but she didn't make it easy. In the days to come, she yelled a lot and, sometimes, Matt would yell back. She called him a sell-out and a coward and some other hurtful names, and Matt called her a few, too. She told him that his songs were petty and lacked substance, which stung, but he knew that she didn't really mean it. Sora made him sleep on the floor, even though the couch was empty and available. And some mornings Matt would wake up to find her curled up on the floor beside him, instinctively seeking out his warmth. She didn't sleep well, and often she'd step on him — accidentally-on-purpose — in the middle of the night on her way to the bathroom.

But, still, Sora didn't throw him out. And Matt didn't leave. And when he showed up at her door each Friday night — even though she glared at him as if he were trash that had washed up from the sewers — she let him in. Then one night, inexplicably, she nudged him in the small of his back with her foot to wake him up. Matt rolled over muzzily, blinking up at the sight of Sora standing over his body, arms crossed and lips pulled tight.

"Get up," she ordered coldly. "I'm getting sick of tripping over you."

Matt rubbed his eyes, gathered up his makeshift bedding, and clambered to his feet without a single protest. He stood, disheveled, and dared to lock eyes with the girl.

"Where do you want me to go?"

Only then did he notice the tears clouding up those tortured burgundy orbs. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to his soft t-shirt with all her might. Sora finally broke down, muffling her great soul-shattering sobs into Matt's shoulder, while he gathered her to him and held tight.

"I miss you," she rasped desperately, her body shaking beneath his strong hold.

Matt's hand tangled through her mussed red locks, the other sliding along the gentle curve of her spine as she pressed herself closer.

"I already told you," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

. . . . . . . .

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Not gonna lie... I'm a little more emotional than I thought I'd be. I published this story to this site in November 2015, but I'd been working on it for months before that. Now it's July 2017. This story has been a part of my life for like 2 years! And YOU, dear reader, have had this story in your life for about a year and a half - assuming you started reading along from the very beginning. I'm beyond floored! I can't believe that this stupid little collection of fake voicemails I started writing on a whim one night would evolve into everything this story has become. I love this fandom. I love these characters. I love their flaws and weaknesses, their struggles and their successes. But most of all, I love all of you - for giving me the courage to put so much of my heart out on the internet for a bunch of strangers. For all of your support even throughout all of my ridiculous hiatuses. For your kind words, constructive criticism, and everything in between. I am eternally grateful.

So thank you for bearing with me during this wild ride. I hope you can find something in this story to take with you going forward - be it a word, a joke, a phrase, a realization, a lesson to learn - because I know I certainly did.

Much love always. xoxoxox


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